Prince Of Persia: Ascending The Throne
by Sincerity
Summary: An expansion of the Trilogy's end. The prince and Farah will find the love only hinted at in The Sands of Time. Chapter is up! Enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: The Prince of Persia was created by Jordon Mechner who rightly holds all copyright privileges.

**Prince of Persia: Ascending The Throne**

_Chapter 1_

It was over. It was done. The sands of time were no more but there were so many memories... so many feelings still swirling within his mind. How could he find words to describe them all? The journey he had taken was not his choice. Everything he had experienced regarding the supernatural sands were responsible for refining his character. And yet, most of what transpired did not exist outside his mind.

He was forced to struggle against the sands alone for so long that he was beginning to believe them impossible to defeat. But this third and final confrontation had provided unexpected allies who helped him stand when he was ready to fall. He was forever indebted to them and to one in particular.

Even after all these years the prince had never forgotten her. And as he gazed upon his kingdom he wondered how much more she would be willing to believe. He was uncertain about how to proceed with her but Farah would help him even with this, albeit unknowingly.

" Prince?" Her request for his attention was almost timid. " There's still something I don't understand."

He turned to her, confident in his ability to answer any question she would ask of him.

" How did you REALLY know my name?"

Except that one.

With an embarrassed chuckle the prince realized that she had seen through his lies from the beginning. He was no mystery to her and he wondered if she also knew how deeply he loved her. Farah's dark eyes were set upon him with a penetrating gaze as he smiled softly and tucked a fallen lock of hair behind her ear. Once again he began his wondrous tale, allowing himself the small indulgence of resting his hand over hers.

" Most people think that time runs swift and sure in one direction. But I have seen the face of time and I can tell you, they are wrong. Time is like an ocean in a storm. You may wonder who I really am and why I say this. Come, and I will tell you a tale like none you have ever heard."

Farah nodded. " After everything I've seen and everything that's happened... I'm beginning to believe that anything is possible."

Together they turned and followed a path that led back into the palace. Their mood was quiet and contemplative. But of the two it was the prince who felt most deeply all that had recently come to pass. They reached a door and he pressed a pressure plate on the wall to provide them access within.

" For many years I have wished for one more opportunity to tell you what happened." He confessed. Farah's brow furrowed with confusion.

" What do you mean?" She asked as they entered the palace and their voices faded from the outside air.

" Of everything that has happened perhaps the most unbelievable of all is that we have fought together against the vizier before."

" What?" Farah asked, stopping to stare at him in utter disbelief.

The prince gazed at her knowingly. Indeed he had seen the very same expression upon her face once before, long ago. And yet, it did not feel so long to him.

" I understand that many things I will tell you will be difficult to believe. But I assure you that every word is true."

Farah studied him for several moments, perhaps wondering if she truly wished to hear what the prince had to say. But at length she nodded and relaxed her stance.

" Alright, prince," she sighed, " Tell me everything. I want to know what you know."

The prince ushered her to an outside terrace where they sat under the shade of a cupola, finding solace in each other's company. And as the prince retold his tale Farah grew increasingly enthralled.

Within the span of an hour he had told her a great many things but when he arrived to the moment of her death he stopped, suddenly overwhelmed with emotion.

" Are you alright?" She asked quietly and laid a steady hand upon his shoulder.

" Farah..." he was unable to continue or even meet her gaze.

" Prince?..."

Without a spoken word he took hold of her hand and kissed it. Farah caught her breath as his lips lingered a moment longer than necessary. A gentle nudge beneath the chin raised his face to her and she saw in his eyes all that he could not express with words. Tears shimmered down his reddened cheeks and Farah quickly set to wiping them away.

The prince closed his eyes at her touch and sighed wearily.

" If I could only see your mind." She whispered softly. " You could tell me everything that happened but I fear I will never fully understand all your pain and sorrow."

" Do you think I am mad? Do you find my story ridiculous?" He asked her, unable to hide the tremble in his voice.

Farah shook her head. " If you were mad than I and my people and your people would be as well. For we have all witnessed what cannot be explained."

The prince nodded and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. " Thank you Farah ... thank you."

He rose and looked at the darkening sky. The stars were beginning to shine and the lights of many torches were igniting throughout the city. Farah rose and lightly smoothed the wrinkles from her skirt.

" Its time for us to return." The prince stated quietly.

Farah nodded and slipped her hand into his. He looked at her in surprise.

" Come," she smiled, " We have much to do."

They returned to the palace in companionable silence. And as he gazed upon their joined hands his heart swelled with hope. For it was the first he had felt its embrace in too long a time. He could not escape his future but now he knew with calm assurance that he would not face it alone.

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	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: The Prince of Persia was created by Jordon Mechner who rightly holds all copyright privileges.

**Prince of Persia: Ascending The Throne**

_Chapter 2_

" She said my love... i know she did... I didn't dream it! Its natural really. Her kingdom's conquered, she has no one to protect her... she needs me. And all I have to do is reach out my hand and she'd be mine!..."

The prince released a heart-felt sigh. His thoughts had taken him back to Azad, back to a moment when he realized Farah's love for him. It had been a revelation! But he had been so naive, so arrogant. If only he had been wiser in his treatment of her... but that was in the past now... in another timeline even! And if things had been different perhaps nothing would have ended as they did.

The prince realized that he had grown and matured since his struggles in Azad. But what pain and sorrow he had endured to reach the wisdom he now possessed! It was true that he could see more clearly... he could relate more deeply and he had finally learned to wait for the things he most desired.

But was it too late? Did Farah feel anything for him other than gratefulness?

Perhaps she was afraid to trust him. Their kingdoms had never truly been close and there had been rumors of a hidden attack by Babylon shortly before the betrayal of the vizier. But if Farah had been aware of the danger she did not seem to hold a grudge against his people.

From cleaning wounds and changing bandages to clearing debris and preparing food, she spent as much time as possible aiding Babylon's denizens. And her fierce dedication to their cause touched the prince deeply, inflaming his desire for her affection.

The afternoon was now waning into evening. The prince had been busy helping rebuild the workshop that had nearly been the scene of his death, and that of many innocents as well. The work was heavy labored, lifting beams of cedar wood and nailing down new borders for the conveyers. It was taxing his strength. The prince felt aches and pains in muscles and tendons he didn't even realize he had. And for a good portion of the day he soldiered on, putting his discomforts to the furthest recesses of his mind.

But at length, he simply could not continue and moved out of the sun in search of shade and a place to sit. The air was hot and humid causing dirt to cling to whatever moisture it could find... such as sweaty skin. The prince rubbed the back of his neck and grimaced when he retrieved his hand. A bath was in order, he decided, for how it was possible to get dirt on the back of one's neck was beyond him and he rubbed his hand against his pant leg in miild irritation.

Deciding to rest his tired feet the prince perched himself on a short stack of crates nestled against the nearby wall of a neighboring building. Many men were still hard at work and he looked on with restlessness, wanting to participate but knowing he could not. And as he watched the people labor, seemingly undaunted by the sun or weariness, he felt a pang of guilt. Wasn't it because of him that the workshop burned? The prince squirmed, it didn't feel right to be resting and he slid off of his perch intending to rejoin the hard work. But just as his feet hit the dusty earth an aged voice spoke to him.

" My prince!"

And he turned in surprise not having noticed anyone so close to him.

" You have been working in the sun since the break of dawn! You are tired and you are in pain. Please, rest yourself now lest you become ill from too much labor. There are many able and willing men who will finish the tasks that need completion here."

The prince sighed and ran calloused fingers through his dark hair. His head hung in weariness for a moment before he looked up at the old man who had become his long-time mentor, a man his father had chosen to advice him in all the things he could not learn within the castle. It was a wise move on his father's part and one the prince was eternally grateful for.

" Thank you for your concern old friend, but I cannot simply sit idle and rest while my people struggle with the aftermath of my actions."

At this the old man furrowed his eyebrows.

" How is all that has happened your fault? Was it you who attacked India? Was it you who harnessed the sands for evil intent?"

The prince looked down at his feet, humbled by the old man's words.

" My prince, there will always be suffering and unforeseeable events. Will you take all their burdens upon your shoulders? Should any man even try?"

" I am sorry," the prince replied, " I have learned much during these past seven years and yet I fear I have not learned enough! Your advice is wise and I would be a fool to dismiss it." He looked up to see the old man smiling a toothy grin and was mildly surprised when he gave the prince a firm pat on the back.

" There's a good lad! And I believe I know just who should tend to those painful feet of yours."

The prince's eyes traveled from the old man to his tired feet, dirty with sand and spotted with blisters.

" I suppose they do need tending." He remarked with a weary sigh, suddenly aware of their pain now that he focused on their condition.

" But truly, I do not need assistance. I have been in worse conditions than this before!" The prince laughed. The old man did not look impressed and the prince's smile slowly faded.

" But I suppose I could make an exception this time..."

" Oh good! For a moment I thought you would leave no room for my aid!" Came a familiar voice from somewhere behind his right shoulder.

The prince, surprised, turned to see Farah sharing a brilliant smile with the old man who decided to take his leave but not before waving a knowing goodbye. Farah returned the gesture while the prince took a moment to collect himself, flustered at her sudden appearance.

" Funny, I never thought you could be surprised so easily!" She teased. The prince blushed and opened his mouth to say something. But no matter how often he found himself in her company, he always seemed to lose his ability to think in a timely manner.

Perhaps a more experienced man would have thought of a smart reply to the little jest she had just played on him. But no words were coming and he sighed with resignation.

" Come on, I'll walk back to the palace with you." She continued and started walking almost before she finished her sentence. The prince followed with a wince. It would be a long walk with the pain his feet were endowing upon him.

Thankfully, Farah was in no hurry. She seemed oblivious to his slowing pace and happily chatted about her day and praised the work of his people, commenting on how beautiful Babylon was becoming. And while she spoke he looked at her, taking into memory her profile, the gentle sway of her hips, and the the brilliant shine of her hair as it tossed back and forth in perfect time with her steps.

Yes... he was in love. And as beautiful as those moments were to him they were not enough, he could not be content with just a small handful of moments. He wanted more... he wanted her... for as long as they were blessed to live.

* * *

The prince gingerly removed his sandals and shook his head with disaproval.

" You really should take better care of yourself." He quietly chastised and relished the brief relief his feet felt as he stepped from the oriental carpet to the cool marble floor. He and Farah had found solitude in his chambers and she had instructed him to remove his sandals while she fetched the necessary things for his feet.

At first he had been uncertain about their being alone but Farah had been so content to finally have an opportunity to speak with him without distraction or interruptions that he could not bring himself to send her away.

And so presently Farah returned, armed with a bowl of water, a washcloth, a towel, medicated ointment, and all manner of bandages. The prince shook his head in mild amusement.

" So much fuss over two dirty feet!" He chuckled while she moved with purpose, carefully setting things down where she could readily reach them.

" Ah! But they are two very important, dirty feet!" She countered and with a warm smile motioned for him to sit on a nearby chair. He obediently complied and watched as she regarded his feet quietly, taking in the many blisters that spotted his skin.

" Why did you not tend to them earlier?" She asked, having knelt down and lifted one foot into her hands for closer inspection.

The prince shrugged sheepishly and tried to pull his foot away, suddenly embarrassed by its condition and the offensive odor he was certain she could smell. But her grip tightened and she looked up at him sympathetically.

" Its alright. Let me help you. After everything you have done for me this is the least I can do!"

She smiled.

The prince melted.

Her smile was brilliant and dazzled him to the point that he could only stare like a youth, dumb-struck by love for the first time. But she did not see it, her attention was now focused upon her task. And he was amazed by her touch, so soft and smooth, and he sucked in a sharp breath as she laid his foot upon her lap. Farah was unaware of his reaction, busying herself with the washcloth and ringing out excess water.

And as she washed his feet, first one, then the other, he wondered what it would be like to be her husband. The thought was not new to him for he had wondered the same before and the memory of its first whisper took him back in time. Back to Azad...

" I could marry her! She's the daughter of the Maharajah after all... a conquered one but still... her blood is royal." The prince remembered all too well where those thoughts had gotten him and he wished for a happier outcome, if it were possible at all.

Farah looked up at him, now applying soothing ointment to his feet. The prince was gazing outside the window, his eyes far away and she wondered what he thought in those moments. She had often seen him reminiscing just as he was now and it always ignited her curiosity, a weakness she could not overcome.

" You are far away." She smiled softy. The prince, upon hearing her voice, looked back at her with a blush.

" You often have that look... like you wish to be somewhere else... as if there was a moment in time where you wished to remain."

The prince smiled sadly and shook his head.

" Not so much that I wish to remain but that I had realized the significance of those moments before now."

" Hm. Sometimes, we have to miss the meanings of past events in order to understand them more clearly in the future, when we are wiser."

While Farah continued her ministrations the prince cocked his head to the side and regarded her thoughtfully. She had spoken as one who had experienced her own words! It was then that he realized he had never asked her what happened in India. So intent had he been with Babylon and its needs that the thought of her struggles had not even entered his mind.

Her words hinted that she too had experiences wondrous and terrible to tell. And he thought to ask her more but did not know how to begin.

" What were you thinking about?" She asked suddenly without looking up from her work.

" Farah..." the prince began, taking time to chose his words carefully, " I was wondering... that is to say... I have been thinking about your situation."

At this Farah paused, her hands becoming very still. Slowly, she raised her eyes to his and felt her heart beat faster. This had been a topic she had hoped they would discuss so many times during the past few weeks. But now that it was happening she was uncertain to know what the outcome would be.

" I have been meaning to ask you," the prince continued, " are you happy here?"

Farah took in a deep breath.

" Well, yes..." she began, carefully setting his foot down and picking up the other, " but there are times when I miss my home." She replied, believing it best to be honest. And so she waited for his response. But when it did not readily come she looked up.

The prince was gazing upon her with sympathy.

" What is it?" she asked softly and set his foot on her lap, pausing to give him her full attention.

" I just realized that I never asked you what happened." He replied. " I mean, I know what happened... here... and I know who is responsible for you being here but..."

" You don't know exactly how it happened." She finished for him.

The prince nodded, unable to meet her gaze, and seemed to find a sudden fascination with the carvings on the arm rests of his chair. Farah picked up his foot, momentarily ignoring their conversation while she carefully covered his blisters with gauze and wrapped them in bandages. And at length the prince wondered if perhaps she had decided not to speak about the past. But after a few moments she spoke again.

" The day Zerband betrayed us I had sensed that something was wrong but I was not wise enough to act on that feeling. I had been practicing my archery when several servants came running to me. They were panicked. I hardly had time to comprehend what they were saying before Zerband's guards surrounded us... and I was forced to watch as they were struck down before my eyes. There was nothing I could do!"

At this, Farah's voice became thick with emotion and the prince reached down to lay a steady hand upon her shoulder. He briefly thought of changing the subject. But she continued and only paused a moment to brush aside a stubborn lock of hair from her eye.

" I don't think my heart ever beat so fiercely. I was 'ushered' into the throne room where Zerband stood waiting. He had already killed my father. I was the only obstacle standing in his way. But he decided to spare my life and preferred that I witness his treachery first hand. During the day he kept me in a cage of iron, like bird, and at night imprisoned me inside my father's treasure vault. He claimed all the wonders held within it as his own.I... there was so much that took place. So many lives lost... for nothing. And all I could do was watch them suffer."

The prince shook his head in sorrow. He could find no words for the wickedness of Jervand's acts. But as he gazed upon Farah's bowed head he felt compelled to comfort her... or to at least try.

" Farah... I am so sorry..." He was painfully aware of how utterly common and plain his words of compassion sounded to his ears. And if he did not know his own heart so well he might have been tempted to believe them artificial.

But his words of sympathy, softly spoken, did bring comfort to Farah and she quickly wiped away her tears with the corner of a towel. She took in a steadying breath and tried to regain control of her trembling hands.

" I used to wash my father's feet after he would return from a long journey..." She continued quietly.

The prince looked upon her with concern and wondered if it would have been better not to have resurrected so many painful memories.

" I am sorry, Farah. These remembrances hurt you. I shouldn't have pried-"

" No... thank you, but its alright. I think... I think it helps me to speak of my family. My mother used to tell me that when you talked about your loved ones it kept them alive, even if only in your own heart. And whenever I tell others about them I almost feel as if they're still here, with me. Do you know what I mean?"

The prince nodded, for he most certainly understood. His own grief was still very raw.

" Its funny," Farah continued, applying the final layer of ointment upon his remaining foot, " but doing this here with you brings me comfort. I almost... feel like I'm home once more."

Flattered, the prince graced her with a small smile, accepting the compliment.

" And I can't help wondering," She continued, " if my father minded my fawning over his feet."

At this the prince's smile broadened brilliantly.

" I'm certain he appreciated your efforts, Farah. I do."

Farah looked at him gratefully and wrapped the final bandage around his foot with one last rub for good measure. Gently, she placed it back on the floor." There..." She smiled, content with the current condition of his feet. " How do they feel now?"

The prince wiggled his toes experimentally and beamed at her.

" I don't believe that my feet have ever received greater service. You have a talent for this!"

Farah laughed, delighted by his satisfaction.

" I don't know about talent... but obsession is always plausible!" She looked up at him with shining eyes and for a moment the world stilled. The prince was gazing upon her with the most endearing expression of affection she had ever received. And it amazed her that she wished he would always look upon her in that manner.

Farah felt her cheeks flush when she suddenly realized that her gaze had come to rest upon his lips and she quickly looked down to her lap. The prince watched with fascination as her cheeks colored a deep rose and he smiled at her sudden bashfulness. She was gathering the towel and washcloth, placing them over her arm so that she might better retrieve the remaining items, when he suddenly reached out and grasped her hand in his.

Surprised, Farah looked up.

" Will you stay with me for a while longer?" He asked her softly, his hand firmly holding her at bay.

" ... if it is what you want..."

The prince seemed uncertain by her reply and loosened his grip every-so-slightly.

" I would very much like to speak with you more... I agree that we have little time to do so without interruptions. But I do not demand it and... I will understand if you would prefer not t-"

" No, no! I mean... I didn't want to intrude on any plans you might have for the remainder of the day. But I would like very much to talk with you!"

Surprised by her enthusiasm and encouraged by her genuine interest in him, the prince nodded.

" Then let us continue our conversation over dinner." He replied and carefully rose to his feet.

" That sounds good to me." Farah agreed, realizing that she was quite hungry and quickly held a hand against her grumbling stomach. With a sheepish laugh she looked up at the prince who gave her a knowing grin.

" Let me help you with that." He commanded and took from her hands the items she had gathered. Slipping his feet into his sandals he turned to lay the items on a table not far from his chair. It was then that he noticed a bowl of fruit, the only splash of color on the otherwise bare table top.

" Here, catch!" He smiled and tossed her a pear while he passed by.

" You can eat as we make our way to the kitchen."

" Many thanks!" Farah laughed, taking a bite from the fruit as he opened the doors with a lavish bow.

" Such service!" She teased while stepping into the outer hall.

The prince shut the doors firmly behind them and offered her his arm.

" Well actually, I thought you might need sustenance during our journey to the kitchen."

" Journey?" She asked and raised a delicate eyebrow. Gingerly she accepted his offered arm.

" Yes," the prince continued with a teasing smile, " My stomach would like me to hurry whilst my feet would prefer I sit and pray that food would come to me."

The sound of Farah's laughter echoed down the hall as they walked together, his hand over hers.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: The Prince of Persia was created by Jordon Mechner who rightly holds all copyright privileges.

**Prince of Persia: Ascending The Throne**

_Chapter 3_

Time. Both comforting and foreboding, it stopped for no man... or woman.

Farah had been in Babylon for nearly a month, although it felt longer to her... like a lifetime. And as the city labored back to some semblance of normalcy she found herself increasingly restless.

The dead had been buried several weeks ago along with their fallen king. There was a great ceremony held on that mournful day and Farah was certain she would remember it for as long as she lived. But ever since, she often wondered if her own father had been given an honorable burial. She wondered if any people in her kingdom survived to mourn him. And if so did they wonder what became of her? Had she been forgotten? Farah hoped not for she certainly remembered them. And her thoughts of late were often concerned with how she might return to India.

It was clear that Babylon would recover well from its attack. The ill were improving, the wounded had been tended, the city was returning to life, and the harbor was undergoing reconstruction. All the loose ends were being secured except one... her situation. What was to become of her if she remained? Farah needed answers. It troubled her that she had heard nothing of her homeland. And so she had decided it was time to find the answers she sought. Waiting for them to come was not good enough.

So with determined steps she made her way through the lavished palace halls hoping to speak with the prince. But upon her arrival she found the throne room stilled with the quietness only found in the absence of human presence. At her wondering gaze a guard offered to help and she inquired about the king's whereabouts. And she learned that the prince was occupied in a counsel meeting with the elders. He could not be disturbed. Farah nodded her understanding and, after a cursory glance at the throne room, left the same way she had come.

The prince was in high demand with his newly established counsel and Farah believed that to be right and fitting. But even so, she was disappointed at the prince's unavailability. He was becoming a dear friend and she found herself yearning for the moments they could be together. She felt something indiscernible whenever he was near and looked forward to the hour when he extracted himself from duties to seek her out. For it had become a game between them to find excuses to meet in the hanging gardens, alone.

And as she returned to her quarters, gathering cushions and sheets for a make-shift resting place, Farah frowned. She was surprised to feel tears trickle down her cheeks. It was not like her to cry so easily. Frustrated with herself she angrily wiped them with the back of her hand and grabbed her bow and quiver on the way out.

* * *

The prince of Persia sat in silence for a long moment.

" Prince Sharahman?" An elderly man with a tuft of grey hair on each side of his head was staring at him expectantly.

At the sound of his title the prince sighed heavily.

" What is your decision?" Asked an elderly man to his left. He had a bald head and long, white beard. He had spoken with a voice that was almost coaxing.

" I understand why granting this request to the Maharajah of Magadha would be a wise move," began the prince, " But Farah is not an object... she is a woman."

One of the counsel men moved to speak but the prince raised a hand, indicating that he wished to continue.

" Let me speak to her of this development first. Perhaps she will have no quarrel with it. I imagine she misses her home. But... let us not be hasty. We will not act until it is known for certain how she feels."

Several counsel men exchanged worried glances while others nodded in approval. And at length they turned to the counsel head, an old man of respectable age. He gazed at the prince with eyes that held a fatherly affection.

" Let it be as the prince has said." He proclaimed calmly.

" So it shall be." The counsel members replied in unison.

" And before anything more occurs let us decide now on a day and time for which our prince might finally be crowned king before his people." Continued the old man.

" Ah yes! The coronation must be well planned!" Agreed a counsel man at the far end of the table.

" Indeed! The prince must be given a celebration befitting a hero! Only the best wines and meats and-"

" It will be a grand event! None of which any kingdom will have ever known!" Two other counsel men exclaimed, so filled with excitement that they interrupted each other. It was not long before the entire counsel was sharing thoughts and dreams for the prince's coronation.

Meanwhile, the prince himself took in a deep breath. It was difficult for him to think of himself as king and even more difficult to think of living a life filled with so much ceremony. The coronation was only the beginning. And even though he was glad to be home, he realized that the freedom he knew during his travels were nirvana compared to the existence of a monarch.

The only excitement he might know now would be from the threat of danger only found in war. Perhaps that was the main reason why his father had wanted to attack the Maharajah all those years ago. It would have been a break in the monotony of a life planned by the will and need of others.

But war had never been the prince's choice for excitement and he loathed even the idea of ever taking part in one again. So ceremony and the uneventful structure of palace life would be his chosen fate. And as the prince thought on these things he realized that he could bare it all, maybe even enjoy it, if he had someone to share the experience with. Someone whom he could lavish all his riches upon... someone who could keep him humble.

The prince immediately glanced out the large palace windows and wondered at the time. He knew exactly who his " someone" should be and he grew restless at the thought of having to wait until he could speak to her of the matter. He released an impatient sigh. He had not been listening to what the counsel had been saying and now they had fallen silent, each staring at him expectantly.

" My prince? Does the idea please you?" One of the counsel men asked.

The prince blinked at them and thought of what he should say. " ... Does it please all of you?"

They nodded, a few were even smiling at him.

" Very well then... yes. It pleases me too."

" Wonderful!" The old man exclaimed and took the prince's hand in his. " May the Gods bless you with the greatest joy for your willingness to please the people of Babylon and those of us in this counsel."

The prince smiled uncertainly and was bewildered at all the acclamation he suddenly received. And he quietly hoped that his affirmation of their " idea" was truly one he agreed with.

* * *

Time seemed to stand still in the hanging gardens, as if life itself did not exist outside the carefully pruned borders. And as Farah wandered through the lush foliage she came to a peach grove where most of the trees stood heavy with their star-shaped flowers. The air was thick with their sweet scent and made her feel heady as she approached.

But as peaceful as the environment was it could not appease her troubled thoughts. For she remembered that her arrival and stay in Babylon had been entirely against her will. The kingdom had never been a friend to India and yet, when things were most dire, she found an unexpected ally in its young monarch. The prince of Persia had proven to her that his intentions to do good were genuine.

But Farah knew that she had a promise to keep and a responsibility to fulfill, even when they were created before her birth. It was something she had not yet shared with the prince. Feeling her tears threaten to fall again she quickly sat up and snatched the bow at her side. Practicing archery always helped vent frustration. But despite the distraction of notching a bow and aiming at a peach from the furthest tree, her tears fell.

Lowering her bow she angrily wiped her eyes with the palm of her hand. " Enough Farah." She chastised herself. " Be strong now. The time for tears is past. The time to act has arrived. Stop being so weak!"

After a moment she took in a deep breath and released it slowly, imagining that all her tension dissipated in the same act. Once again she raised her bow and took aim. This time her vision was clear and her hands steady. Farah allowed herself a small smile of satisfaction. For even little victories, such as those that are fought inwardly, are worth celebrating.

* * *

The prince made his way through the cultivated foliage, both excited and reluctant to be with Farah. For he did not wish to speak of the pressing issue discussed in the counsel meeting. And as he came to an orchard, located in the heart of the hanging gardens, he paused to watch as Farah let loose an arrow that swiftly impaled a peach from a low-hanging branch.

From his place, hidden behind a tree trunk, the prince admired her beauty. She was graceful, like a dancer, even in the most mundane acts. And he felt his heart jump when she suddenly turned and looked directly at him.

" Well? What do you think?" she asked expectantly.

He laughed then and stepped out from behind his hiding place with a shake of his head and an amused smile. " Excellent aim! As usual!"

Farah smiled brightly and pressed a hand over her heart in gratitude whilst giving him an exaggerated bow.

He drew near as she retrieved the fallen peach and her arrow.

" Hungry?" she asked and tossed him the fruit.

He smiled and nodded his thanks before following her to a place where she had laid out silk sheets and cushions for their repose. And as they sat down he gently brushed aside that stubborn lock of hair which always chose to fall over her eye.

" Doesn't that bother you? Or at the very least distract you?" he asked curiously.

Farah shrugged. " No. But it appears to distract you." She smiled and began picking up random flowers to weave together. The prince blushed hotly and was grateful she had not been looking at him.

" This place is so peaceful. Sometimes I wish that I never had to leave." She spoke softly and the prince listened silently, temporarily lulled into a state of lazy contentment by the gentleness in her voice.

" Sometimes when I am here with you... I almost believe that all the suffering we have endured were only part of the magical tales you have told me." The prince lowered his gaze until it settled upon her work. Already she held a small chain of flowers in her hands.

The prince sighed contentedly and analyzed the peach he held. Farah resumed weaving her chain of flowers.

" Its so strange to me," she stated suddenly. He looked up and gazed at her questioningly.

" What is strange?"

" That I feel so content when we're together... as if I've known you all my life... but we haven't known each other that long."

The prince smiled.

" What?" Farah asked with a suspicious stare. " Why are you smiling like that?"

" I'm not allowed to smile?" he teased.

" When you smile like that it means you know something I don't."

" And you want to know what it is, hmm?"

" Well... wouldn't you?" she replied.

" I suppose so." he agreed and turned his attention to peeling the peach in his hands.

After a few moments of silence passed by Farah grew restless, no longer interested in weaving flowers and threw them aside.

" Oh come on now!" she complained, nearly bouncing up and down on her cushion like a little girl.

The prince smirked as he analyzed his peach to make certain it was completely free of skin before closing his eyes and taking a slow, exaggerated bite.

" Patience is a virtue, Farah. Or... so I've heard." he mocked around a mouth full of peach. And his behavior was promptly rewarded with a pillow flung at his face. It made a satisfying "pft" sound before falling into his lap.

Stunned, he could only blink at Farah who lowered her eyes demurely, stood up very gracefully, and sauntered to the shade of a peach tree a few feet away. After finding a satisfactory spot to sit, she plopped another cushion down and took a seat. For a moment the prince didn't know what to do but his confusion was laid to rest when Farah finally smiled at him.

" You should see the look on your face!" she laughed good-naturedly.

The prince smirked. " Well, I was not expected to be assaulted by a cushion."

" I suppose you are accustomed to being treated very carefully." she replied coyly, her eyes watching him as he rose and quickly closed the distance that separated them. His face was stern but his eyes danced with laughter. Even so, she knew there was something pressing upon his mind.

And as he plopped his pillow down before her she could sense his mood shifting to one much more solemn in nature. He crossed his legs, indian style, and met her gaze.

Her smile faded.

" What is it?" she asked seriously.

He sighed and glanced down for a moment, trying to pick his words carefully.

" I learned in a counsel meeting this morning that Maharajah Bindusara has claimed you as his own."

Farah stiffened.

" He states that you have been promised to him."

For a moment only the soft rustle of the leaves could be heard as he looked at her, trying to read her reaction.

" Yes, I know." she confessed quietly.

" So its true..." The prince breathed, suddenly feeling nauseous.

" Yes. He is my betrothed." Farah explained with a bothered sigh. " My father had arranged it since before my birth. My wedding to Maharajah Bindusara is his wish for me."

The prince remained silent, for he sensed there was more to know. But when no further explanations were forthcoming he spoke to her again with a softer voice.

" Why did you never mention this before?"

Farah took in a quick breath. Tears were stinging her eyes and she turned her face from him.

" I was hoping to speak to you of the matter today. This is why I sought you in the throne room earlier."

The prince studied her for a moment. " I see. Before, when the guard reported that you had been seeking me, I was confused as to why you would do so."

Farah turned to him then and met his gaze. " My father is dead but his will for my future is not. All my life I had sought only to honor his wishes. It has been my greatest joy."

The king chuckled mirthlessly, awed and grieved by her statement. " You are loyal, Farah. Maharajah Bindusara will be greatly blessed to have you as a wife." He tossed the peach from one hand to the other and briefly contemplated throwing it against a tree trunk.

Farah did not thank him for the compliment... he did not know that in her heart she felt nothing for the Maharajah. And she looked at him with a pained expression, quickly hidden behind a smile that never reached her eyes.

" I am a princess and it is my duty to obey the will of my father."

At this the prince looked at her curiously, trying to calm his heart at the possible meaning behind her words.

" Do you... not desire the betrothal?"

" I don't have the luxury of harboring desires."

" Farah-"

" But if you must know a desire of mine it is this; May I know when he will come for me?"

" He has already sent an entourage from India. They will be with us in one month's time."

Farah nodded and looked down at the grass, idly watching as they swayed in a gentle breeze.

" Time moves quickly, does it not?" She said with a sad smile and glanced up to see that he had been watching her.

" Indeed it does." He replied quietly, his gaze steady but thoughtful.

" I want you to know that I cherish the time we have spent together. And I will always love Babylon as if it were part of my homeland."

At this the prince set aside his peach and unfolded his legs. He moved closer and gently laid a hand upon her forearm. " If you tell me that the betrothal is not your desire than I will find a way to keep you from it."

Farah looked at him with surprise and for a moment she could not speak. Had she revealed too much of her heart to him? His eyes were intense, he was waiting for her reply. And it took all her will to resist closing the short distance between them with a kiss. She had to look away before she lost all semblance of sanity.

" Raheel..."

She had spoken his name. Never had she done so in all the weeks they had been together. And her decision to utter it at that moment both puzzled and thrilled him.

" The betrothal must be. If you do anything to prevent it India will see that as a great insult."

" You are in my kingdom. I have cared for you even when it was your vizier who attacked Babylon. I have treated you with honor and respect even when it is my right to claim you as my prisoner-"

At this Farah yanked her arm from his grasp and quickly rose. Raheel blinked in surprise and dismay for her gaze had turned cold. And he instantly realized his blunder. How could he have been so insensitive to her feelings? Had she not arrived in Babylon a prisoner? Reluctantly he met her hard gaze. It was filled with the same disdain she had displayed when he was trapped in his sand-infected state.

" Why do you say these things?" She demanded. " Am I just a prize to you? Am I to so easily give up hope on my people and my future?"

Raheel tried to make things right. Perhaps if he could explain his reasoning she might understand. " Farah, I am sorry. Please, I never meant to... I would never hold you as my prisoner. I thought if the Maharajah were to be reminded of how this situation came to be... then he would change his mind." Even to his own ears the words last spoken seemed ridiculous, adolescent at best.

Farah seemed to weigh his words and at length crossed her arms. She was relenting and he felt himself relax but only for a moment because Farah's following words would bite deeply.

" Maharajah Bindusara will retaliate if you interfere with the betrothal. It will mean war all over again! You cannot allow that to happen to your people... or to mine. I would rather die than see lives lost for my sake."

Raheel took in a sharp breath, as if pierced by a sword, and bowed his head. Her courage and determination stunned him and yet at the same time... shamed him. She was ready to sacrifice her happiness so that others might know theirs. And he realized that he was not prepared to make the same sacrifice.

For several moments they remained silent and unmoving. But at length Farah stepped forward and surprised him with a soft kiss to the cheek.

" You are a good and brave man, Raheel."

Quietly she stepped aside to retrieve her bow and arrow. Raheel turned to watch her, his hands clenched tightly at his sides. Her nearness had nearly been his undoing. Had she lingered a moment longer he would taken her in his arms.

" But we still have time to spend together. Let us not be weighed down with sadness." She continued and turned to him. " Shall we meet here again tomorrow?"

At her question Raheel gave her a confused gaze. She nodded to someone behind him. " I believe your presence is once again requested."

Raheel turned to see his old friend and two counselors approach them. With a reluctant sigh Raheel looked back at Farah but she had already begun to walk away. He watched her retreating form for a moment, his hand lightly touching the place where she had kissed.

" Until tomorrow then... my love."


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: The Prince of Persia was created by Jordon Mechner who rightly holds all copyright privileges.

**Prince of Persia: Ascending The Throne**

_Chapter 4  
_

The time Raheel and Farah shared together was blissful. But time passed by too quickly as it is always want when days are filled with happiness. Raheel could not remember how often they met in the gardens nor how many conversations they shared but there was one thing of which he was entirely certain… how truly and deeply he loved Farah. And the inevitable nearness of her departure pained him more deeply each passing day. Yet he kept his sorrow well hidden, only in the solitude of his private chambers did he allow his tears to fall, and even then only in the shadows of night.

* * *

_The palace was unearthly quiet. Not a sound could be heard save for the footsteps he and his men produced as they searched every hall and chamber._

" _Where could they be?!" He muttered in frustration. _

_They came at last to the main hall, the only entrance way into the throne room, and halted. Before them lay the women and children, young and old, rich and poor, side-by-side upon the floor so that there was hardly space to step between them!_

_A soldier stepped forward and rested his hand upon a child's chest and then upon a woman's and another before he turned around, his eyes wide. " dead… they're all dead!"_

" _No!" Raheel shouted as if his denial could undo what had already taken place. And he hurried amongst the bodies, searching for one face, one woman he loved even more than himself._

" _Raheel!" He heard the general call but he paid no heed. His feet carried him well into the throne room before he finally looked up. " Is she here? I don't see her? Do you see her?" _

_The captain glanced about and shook his head. " There are too many in this space. We will have to lift the bodies in order to see who lays beneath."_

_Raheel nodded but suddenly something caught his eye. As he looked again, in the furthest corner of the room directly beneath the largest windows, she lay. For a moment he felt nothing, he heard nothing, and then… he ran to her. Falling onto his knees he took her into his arms._

_She was cold and loose as he cradled her close to his chest. _

" _We were too late… I was too late… Farah… " His tears fell freely and he hardly recognized the sound of his own voice as he mourned with great cries and wails. And no one could comfort him as he held her there amongst the bodies… the people she had asked him to save. _

* * *

Raheel awoke with a gasp! His sheets were tangled about him and his skin glistened in a light sheen of cold sweat. Trembling, he sat up and ran his fingers through his hair.

" It was… just a dream…" He whispered to himself in bewilderment. " But it seemed so real…"

Wiping his tears away with the back of his hand he looked across the chambers of his private quarters and saw moonlight shining through the curtains. _It is still night_… He thought to himself. Sleep would not come easily to him now that he had awakened and the images of his dream were still too vivid in his memory. Uncomfortable, Raheel rose from bed and padded on bare feet to his desk where a book laid open. One page was already half written and he sat down, taking the quill in hand.

_Writing will help me calm down._ He told himself and took a steadying breath.

But try as he might he could not remove the image of her lifeless body limp within his arms and as he closed his eyes he remembered her as she had lain upon the floor within the tower of dawn.

" no, no…. she is safe… she is safe now…" He whispered to himself, his tears beginning anew. And he stood, bracing himself against the desk and willing the images to subside. " the sands no longer exist… what happened before never took place…" But even as he said the words, even when he knew them to be true he yearned to find her and be certain.

He looked to his chamber doors, ready to fling them open and march himself to her quarters but at length he looked away. _No. She is safe now… I would only worry her by acting so… so childish._ And with that he sat down once again and retrieved the quill.

_If only she would stay… then I would always be certain…_ The chamber was silent, save for the gentle scratches of the quill against paper. _Please,_ he prayed, _let her always be safe from now on…_

* * *

But no amount of tears or prayers could stop time. Raheel and Farah soon learned this truth as they found themselves dwelling within the last hours of her final day in Babylon.

* * *

Farah gently turned a page and sighed. Her brow was furrowed in deep concentration and her focus was atuned to every word on the page. So attentative was she to the story she read that Farah did not hear the old sage enter king Shahraman's library.

" Beautiful _and_ intelligent!" The old man smiled.

Farah jumped from her seat and whirled around, gripping the book in preparation to defend. But her countenance relaxed as she recognized who had spoken.

" Forgive me, dear princess! I did not wish to frighten you!" The old man apologized, raising both hands to stay her threatening blow. " I only wished to compliment your hunger for knowledge. Palaces and royal courts are too inundated with ladies who have more in their feather headresses than in their heads."

At that Farah laughed, her face glowing with mirth. " I have never heard anyone describe nobility so precisely!" She smiled. " Indeed many women of the court do more of a disservice than not by their shameless display of _empty headedness_."

" But I am afraid I have interrupted you. Do not allow an old man to rob you from discovering new worlds of knowledge." The old sage turned as if to leave but Farah quickly laid a gentle hand upon his shoulder.

" No, no. Please, don't go! I really don't have time to finish reading these books anyhow." She replied and gestured to a small pile of books she had placed on the reading table. " I will be leaving Babylon shortly and I simply wanted to read as much as I could before my departure. Women in my culture, royalty or not, are discouraged from reading anything that could further their knowledge. In some kingdoms… it is even forbidden."

" But that is simply preposterous!" The old sage gawffed.

" Perhaps so but it is the way of life in India." She sighed and returned to her small pile of books on the table. " I was mezmerized by these ancient writings. They are so beautiful… so poetic…" And she lifted the book so that the old man could read the title.

" Ah yes." He smiled. " The Song of Solomon. Do you know who wrote the book and to whom it was written?"

Farah shook her head. " I do not. The title drew my curiosity and so I pulled it off the shelf. But I imagine if the title is Song of Solomon than the writer might also be named Solomon."

" True." The old man nodded. " But this Solomon was not an ordinary man. He was the wisest of all Hebrew kings and his fame and his riches were greater than any king who had ever lived before him."

Farah looked at the old man with wide eyes. " Truly?"

" Truly."

" Please… sit with me for a while and tell me more." She asked and motioned to a chair beside her.

The old sage obliged and nodded to the book. " It is written by ancient scholars that king Solomon wrote this book for his first wife… a woman whom he loved more than any other."

" How beautiful!" Farah sighed wistfully and turned another page, pausing in confusion a moment later.

" What troubles you, princess?"

Farah turned the opened book towards him so that he could read more readily. " What does this word mean?" She asked and pointed a delicate finger to the word in question.

" Ahava." The old sage replied. " It is the Hebrew word for love. It means ' I give' and ' I love.'"

Farah looked at the word again with new confusion.

" So to them… love is giving…"

" Well, in a sense." The old man continued. " The word ahava is deeper than one might think at first glance. You see when one gives to another it creates a connection with the receiver. The more one gives, the greater the connection. For the Hebrews the ultimate expression of ahava takes place between a husband and his wife. Thus the beauty of king Solomon's writings to his wife are made complete by the use of that one word."

For a long moment Farah was silent, gazing upon the word with deep thought. And at length she sat back. " The giving that ahava speaks of… does it imply giving of physical treasures or something more?"

The old sage thought of his reply for a moment before setting his hands upon the top of his walking stick. " I believe it implies one or the other and or both."

" I see." Farah smirked, catching the playful twinkle in the old man's eyes.

" But truly, my dear, the giving that ahava represents is as unique as he, or she, understands it to be."

Farah looked back at the book and sighed once more.

" Ahava… ahava…" She listened to the word roll off her tongue, as if tasting it for flavor. " I like this word." She confessed.

The old man smiled. " It is a beautiful word."

Farah was silent for a moment longer before looking at him thoughtfully. " How is it that you know so much about Hebrew writings?"

" Well that is a simple question for me. I am Hebrew myself."

" This I did not know!" Farah replied, genuinely surprised.

" Raheel never mentioned your nationality before. I always assumed you to be Persian."

The old man chuckled. " I am a Hebrew by birth but most of my life has been lived in Babylon… so… I think of myself as both."

" A… Persian Hebrew."

" Exactly."

" Raheel is surely blessed to have someone like you guiding him."

The old sage bowed his head in humble acceptance of her compliment. " You honor me with your kind words."

" And you honor me by sharing these things." Farah smiled.

" If only more men in India thought as you and Raheel… But as much as I would love to remain here in Babylon I cannot." And she rose from her chair, closing the book with great reluctance. " I must prepare for my return."

The old man watched as she carefully replaced the book in its proper space upon the shelves. She turned to him then, glancing about with shining eyes. " I will miss Babylon dearly."

Slowly, and with the care that only the very old possess, the sage rose from his chair. " My dear… for as much as you will miss Babylon, Babylon will miss you even more."

Farah bowed her head understanding the meaning behind his words. " Yes. I know… " She softly replied, taking the other books she had chosen and returning them to their proper places. " Perhaps, one day, fate will be so kind as to grant me another visit under happier circumstances."

The old man smiled warmly. " That is a good hope." And he hobbled to her side. She looked at him tearfully and the old sage patted her arm comfortingly. " Come. Allow an old man to escort you back to your quarters."

With a quiet nod Farah agreed and as they reached the library's entrance she glanced back, committing to memory the grand chambers in which she had spent many hours delighting in the beauty of written words.

* * *

Raheel watched with quiet resignation as the courtyard filled with elephants and camels. The Indian entourage had arrived two days prior and already his time with Farah had been scarce. She had been preoccupied with preparations for departure while he dealt with accommodating the 150 soldiers, 80 elephant keepers, 62 camel keepers, 25 servants, and a new vizier.

And as he ruminated on these things he searched for distraction. He watched as the elephants were covered with fine, hand-spun blankets whose gold threads shone and glistened in the sunlight. The sound of many tiny bells reached his ears and he looked to see the keepers tie robust knots of brightly dyed cords to the reins of the camels' bits. The animals, to their credit, were well behaved and even seemed to enjoy the process. But at length Raheel tired of the scene and turned away, heartsick at the thought of Farah's departure.

And as he left the balcony to re-enter the quietness of the palace halls he wandered into one of the many lavishly decorated greeting rooms to sit and think. Raheel thought of many things in the moments he sat alone but one thought troubled him more than all others. Was the new vizier of trustworthy character? Or would he bring ruin and suffering as Zerband had before him? Would Farah be safe in this vizier's keeping?

" There you are!"

Startled, Raheel jumped to his feet.

" I was wandering in search of you… no one knew where you had gone." Farah explained as she entered the room. " I was beginning to wonder if you had decided not to see me before my departure…"

Raheel blinked in surprise. " How could you even think it? I would not miss seeing you for all the riches in the world."

Farah smiled and he went to her, taking her into his arms in a warm embrace.

" Although I will not lie to you." He continued as they stepped apart. " I do not particularly enjoy goodbyes."

Farah nodded in understanding. " Neither do I." She agreed.

" But it is so much more difficult to say goodbye to someone so beautiful." Raheel continued, smiling at the lovely blush that colored Farah's cheeks. " You look like a goddess from ancient legends dressed as you are." And indeed she did, her hair was pinned up loosely so that the richness of her curls were clearly seen and the blue sari that she wore glittered with finely spun gold.

Farah's blush deepened. " Thank you, Raheel. I only wish I were as eloquent with my words as you are."

" And why is that?" He asked while she tucked behind her ear a stray curl, the bangles on her forearm clinking softly.

But rather than offer a reply she glanced at him demurely and stepped a bit closer.

" I have something for you." She smiled and held out her hands.

" For me?" Raheel asked. She nodded and he took a small object, wrapped in red satin, from her hands.

" Oh! It has weight." He stated in surprise.

" I doubt you can guess what it is." Farah smiled, a twinkle in her eyes.

Raheel looked at her for a moment, testing the weight of the object in his hand. " I believe you are correct. I can't imagine..." His sentence was left unfinished as he carefully unwrapped the gift and stiffened.

" What's wrong?" Farah asked, confused and concerned at his sudden solemnity. Raheel quickly shook his head and graced her with a warm smile.

" No, nothing! Its beautiful... and so intricate..." Raheel stated as he held the medallion up higher, admiring how the light gleamed off its golden surface. It was the same medallion he had worn for so many years and yet the one that had protected him rested somewhere in the bay, lost to the waters of the sea.

" But I have never seen you with this before." He continued.

" Where did you keep it?"

" It has always rested next to my heart."

As he turned it in his hands Raheel suddenly realized the importance of what he held. " But... Farah... this is your royal emblem."

" It is." She replied with an affirming nod.

" But this is very precious! It represents who you are... it is proof of you royal lineage!" He continued in mounting astonishment. " I cannot accept this..."

" Please do, Raheel!" She gently pleaded. " I don't need anything to remind myself of who I am and I have nothing of greater value that I can give! You have been so kind and generous to me... I cannot leave without giving you something in return. My loyalty to father's name must be carried to that of Bindusara. This emblem would be melted and reshaped into his. I would much rather it remain whole and unchanged... protected in your keeping."

Raheel was deeply moved by her confession. " Farah... " He couldn't find any words to express what he felt. Reverently, he slipped the gold chain about his neck so that the medallion rested upon his chest. Farah smiled contentedly.

" It suits you."

" Thank you." He smiled. " May it always rest upon my heart as it once did upon yours."

He took her hands and kissed them softly, giving Farah a pleasant tingle up and down her arms.

" And now, allow me to return the favor." Raheel continued, stepping aside to reveal a gift of his own, which had remained well hidden.

" I thought for many days over what I could give you." He explained, lifting a leather-bound book into his hands and presenting it to her. Farah stepped closer to get a better look.

" It wasn't until I remembered how much you enjoyed my stories that I knew what your gift should be." He continued as she lifted the book from his hands, reverently caressing its cover and opening it with care. Inside were many pages, each containing his own hand writing. Farah looked up at him in astonishment.

" You wrote this?!"

Raheel nodded, nervously rubbing the back of his neck.

" To Farah…" she read out-loud, " May the words contained within these pages carry you to places of mystery and wonder. May the stories never cease to fill you with memories of the pleasant days we once shared... "

Farah fell silent, her whole being solemn and still.

" Farah?... Does it please you?" Raheel asked softly.

She gave no reply but closed the book and embraced him tightly pressing her cheek to his chest. For a moment he was uncertain of what to do. But her warmth steadied him and he soon returned her embrace with equal fervor.

" Truly Raheel, this is the greatest gift I have ever received. I will cherish it… always."

Raheel did not trust his voice to hold steady and so he held her even more tightly for what seemed an endless moment in time. But at length she stepped back, tears shining in her eyes. And as she did so her gaze fell upon the medallion.

She smiled and touched its golden surface with light fingertips.

" Raheel... I want you to know that you have become a dear friend to me."

" I feel the same way." He replied quietly, watching her fingertips trace the medallion's curves.

Farah looked up at him then, her gaze both curious and tender. " Really? Why?"

Raheel did not hesitate in his reply. " When I am with you I feel free to be myself. My title does not change your perceptions of who I am. But... when I am with others they only see me as their king."

" Is that really so terrible? You _are_ their monarch." Farah smiled.

" Yes, but..." Raheel ran a hand through his hair and glanced at her. Farah thought that he almost looked... shy.

" I am a warrior, Farah. I don't know how to rule a kingdom. I am not like my father... "

" You will have others here to guide you. And what you say is true... you are not your father. But just as he learned how to rule so too will you. Raheel, do not allow your responsibilities as king to trouble you. The truth is that there is no mystery behind a great ruler. You already have the greatness inside you... a tender and compassionate heart."

Raheel sighed softly. No matter how dire the situation might be, Farah always lifted his spirit. Her wisdom... her words were like the clearest, sweetest water in the parched desert lands. And how he yearned to tell her so.

" You know, even though I'm going away we can still remain close." She continued. " I will write to you."

" Very well!" Raheel replied, feeling his sadness lift a bit at the thought. " Although, I still wish our time together did not end so soon." And as he spoke his hand reached for hers and caressed it with the pad of his thumb.

Farah smiled then and looked down at their hands, noticing how rough his finger pad felt and how the tendons shifted beneath his skin. Returning her gaze to his own he seemed to realize only then what he was doing and quickly released her. Hoping to avert her attention from the deep blush coloring his cheeks, he motioned for them to step out into the hall. Quietly he led her to a greeting room that showcased a small balcony overlooking the courtyard.

" And how will we know that we are the only eyes that see our letters to one another?" He asked, having regained his composure. " I have many servants and attendants who would feel it their responsibility to read out-loud anything sent to me."

" Let us make a secret between us then." Farah replied conspiratorially. " If one of us is in need of help let us write one word... we'll use... What was that special word in your stories again? Kakalulik... Kakalupoo...? no,no... uhm... "

" Kakalukia." He laughed.

" That's what I meant to say!" She smiled. " Our secret word for help shall be kakalukia." Raheel chuckled and Farah gazed at him with satisfaction. " You see? We can still remain close even though we are apart."

Raheel nodded, the mirth still radiant upon his face. They fell silent then, staring at the gift she had presented to him, each lost in their own thoughts. And after several moments of companionable silence he became wistful... almost nostalgic.

" And what if the letters we write are not calls for help but of deep conversation?"

Farah looked up at him in surprise. Had she heard him correctly? And as she wondered he continued.

" And what if the letters are desperate but not of eminent danger?"

At this Farah looked at him quietly for a long moment, enjoying the light brush of his sleeve against her cheek as he played with a lock of her hair. If she had questioned his meaning in her heart a moment earlier, she did not question it now. The look in his eyes... Farah wondered if she looked at him in the same manner.

And at length she replied. " In that case, perhaps it would be better that we write the word _ahava_."

He cocked his head to the side, curious. " And what does ahava mean?" He asked so gently... so softly that it was nearly a whisper. Raheel briefly wondered if she could hear the pounding of his quickening pulse. Even the air itself seemed energized ... excited, like in the moments before a great and powerful storm.

Ever so slowly he bowed his head to hers so that their lips were only a breath apart. But the answer to his question and the moment they shared were lost when the sound of gathering crowds floated over the balcony to reach their ears. They sighed forlornly, once again reminded of how short a time remained for them.

" I fear our time together is nearly at an end." He sighed.

Somewhere outside the call of elephants could be heard and Raheel withered. Farah sighed accepting her duty with reluctance.

" I believe you are correct, Raheel. The elephant keepers must have finished feeding the morning meals… which means the animals are ready to march. Come. Lets look out upon your kingdom together one last time." Farah continued, having already taken his hand in hers, and gently pulled him over to the balcony. At her touch he felt a pleasant tingle run the length of his arm.

" Your people are free and alive because of what you did." She continued. " And you may not believe it but I _know _that you will be a great king. People will talk about your life long after it ends."

He felt her gaze turn to him as she drew closer, holding his hand between them.

" I feel privileged to have ever known you."

" Farah... don't speak this way." He begged her softly and swallowed a sudden lump in his throat.

" And why not? Everything I have said is true. Why are you so reluctant to accept your fate? It is a good one. You should embrace it."

It was not his fate he wished to embrace. His free hand rose of its own accord and cupped the soft curve of her cheek. He could feel the warmth of her flesh against his fingertips and the silken threads of her hair as his hand traveled to the nape of her neck.

Farah gazed at him, her eyes dark and rich with shadow.

" What will become of us, Farah? Where will we be in a month, in a year from these moments?"

She smiled softly. " Only time can tell."

He nodded quietly and watched as she pressed a kiss upon his hand.

" Let us keep these moments in our hearts... that they might never fade." She whispered and felt the burning of tears in her eyes.

Raheel pressed a tender kiss to her forehead and felt her arms embrace him. And he closed his eyes, resting his chin upon the crown of her head and taking into memory their nearness.

" My king," An elder spoke from the doorway, interrupting them with an apologetic voice. Startled, they quickly stood apart.

" The entourage is prepared to depart. They await the princess."

" Thank you." Raheel replied, glancing at Farah who was gazing out over the balcony once more.

As the elder left their presence, Farah turned back to Raheel. On impulse he took her hand and gave her an encouraging nod. She raised her chin in a forced attempt of bravery but he could see that she was nervous. And as they approached the courtyard he paused to offer her his arm. In the stillness of that moment their eyes only saw each other.

And as Farah accepted his offer she spoke. " Thank you Raheel... for all you have done. I will not forget you." Her grip tightened upon the book he had given her and she held it close to her chest.

Words formed in his heart... words he so dearly wanted to tell her... but he could not. Instead, others filled his mouth and spilled out into the space between them. " Let us be brave now, Farah. Perhaps one day... we will be together again."

Farah nodded, her eyes gleaming with something unnamed.

They walked forward together, all their senses heightened as if to step into battle. But there was no enemy to confront... only the truth of their fate. And as they ventured out into the courtyard, sunlight shining down upon them, Raheel wondered... was this the future Keileena had foreseen for him? The possibility filled him with a strange and nauseating bitterness. It took all his strength to return a smile Farah had paused in their steps to give him. But his feelings of injustice towards their situation evaporated when she suddenly pressed a kiss upon the corner of his mouth.

" Promise you will write to me, my love." She whispered in his ear before turning away and accepting assistance from a servant to mount a decorated elephant. She carefully climbed into a sitting box that rested securely atop its back.

" Thank you for watching over the princess, brave king of Babylon." A voice spoke beside him. Raheel turned to face Bindusara's vizier and hoped he did not appear unsettled at relinquishing Farah into his hands. This vizier, with head bowed and hands folded, seemed genuinely humble. He did not yet possess the number of years Zerband had once held but a light sprinkling of grey hair gave him a quiet dignity. And as Raheel noted these things the vizier continued, raising his head that he might be clearly heard.

" The kindness you have shown her will not be forgotten. Let it be known this day that you have an ally in the people of India."

Raheel nodded slowly. " Let it be known as you have said."

The vizier, satisfied at his response, mounted the elephant and took his seat beside Farah.

Raheel shielded his eyes from the glare of the sun, hoping to see her face as the elephant rose to its full height. Perhaps she sensed his hope, perhaps she too desired to look upon him, but as the elephant moved Farah pulled back the billowing curtains of the sitting box. Raheel had stepped back to watch from a safer distance when he saw her face. Their eyes met and he swallowed, gripping her royal emblem tightly within his hand. He held her gaze for as long as she could lean forward but as the entourage passed through the gate of the courtyard she leaned back and was lost to his eyes.

And so Raheel and Farah were separated once more, uncertain of whether-or-not they would ever unite again.

* * *


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: The Prince of Persia was created by Jordon Mechner who rightly holds all copyright privileges.

**Prince of Persia: Ascending The Throne**

_Chapter 5_

Farah opened her eyes. A breeze was blowing outside her tent and she could see the ambient glow of daylight seep through the cloth walls. Rising from her resting mat she stepped over to a wash bowl and peered at her reflection in the mirror. A comb of ivory lay atop a neatly folded towel that rested just to her side. With practiced ease she undid her braids and began to comb through her wavy hair, idly wondering how many more weeks she would wake to the same accomadations. She didn't detest nomadic life but she certainly appreciated the comforts of permanent dwellings… especially when they were as beautiful as the palace of Babylon.

Carefully setting her comb down Farah looked beside her pillow, her gaze resting upon the leather bound book Raheel had given to her. She wondered about him. No doubt he was busy preparing for the ceremonies that would publically proclaim him king. But did he still think of her as she did of him? Would they ever see each other again? Farah bit her lip with worry and sighed. Those types of thoughts would only make her future more difficult.

" Stop it Farah." She chastised herself. " It could never be." And as she turned back to the mirror she was surprised. Her eyes… there was a depth… an expression in them she had only seen in Raheel's eyes whenever he looked at her. For several moments Farah stared unseeing at the mirror, remembering his touch and the kiss she had given him. And suddenly, out of desperation, Farah took the mirror and laid it face-down on the carpeted floor. Only then did she realize how quickly her heart was beating.

" It doesn't matter anymore if he did or did not love me." She told herself. " We can't go back in time. And it's for the best… this is for the best…"

* * *

The vizier stood solemn and tall, his eyes gazing far into the horizon as the morning sun shone down upon the encampment. Desert breezes fluttered his robe and the loose tail of his scarves. In his hands he held a map and raised it up to his line of sight. His keen eyes compared what lay before him with the lines on the parchment for several moments before being satisfied enough to roll it up again. Looking back over his shoulder he watched servants place the finishing touches of the day's first meal to his satisfaction. Moving closer he admired, with a growing appetite, the ripe grapes and plump pears that sat in a silver bowl. Dates and pistachios, flat breads and wafer-thin cookies sat on silver plates around the fruits. And goblets of silver were filled with the sweetest water, kept cool during the journey within canisters of marble. Everything was set… everything was ready. Now all that was missing was her.

He was about to send for Farah when she emerged from her tent on her own. She approached him with a polite nod and took a seat. Once he was certain she was comfortably situated he too sat down. The servants immediately produced plates and offered extra pillows for reclining. Farah thanked them and soon set to the task of picking her morning meal. The vizier sat patiently, waiting for her to finish her choices. And at length Farah sighed. " I do realize that ceremony is important within the royal court but dear vizier… we are not in a palace at the present." And Farah waved a hand across the expanse of desert behind them with a grand gesture. " It is not necessary for you to wait until I have chosen all I wish to eat."

The vizier nodded. " But it is the way things are done when one sits with royalty, beloved princess." He replied.

Farah sighed. " We have been traveling well over a week now and still you call me by my title. Is it so wrong to speak my name?"

At this the vizier blinked in surprise. " It is not a matter of right or wrong. It is simply a matter of-"

"-ceremony. Yes. I know." She finished for him and set her plate down indicating to him that she was through choosing what she would eat. Quietly he began to fill his plate. Farah glanced about at the endless sand dunes. She was missing the green of lush foliage and the jagged lines of city skylines. She briefly glanced up to the sky. Not even a cloud to amuse herself with.

Yearning for conversation she looked back at the vizier and watched him munch on a pear for a few moments. " What is your name?" She asked suddenly. " Or should I continue calling you _vizier_?"

" My name is Manessa." He replied.

" Do you have any family in India, Manessa?" Farah asked conversationally as she plucked a grape off its stem.

" I had a family… many years ago."

Farah looked up at him in surprise. " What happened to them?"

" They died." He answered simply.

" oh… I'm sorry." Farah replied at a loss for words.

" Their passing was a long time ago. I have made my peace with the past."

Farah looked down at her plate not knowing what else to say or do. But the silence did not last long.

"Did you… were you treated well in Babylon?" He continued, seemingly unbothered by her questions. Farah looked up at him in surprise. She had not expected him to desire further conversation.

" Yes. The people were very friendly and helpful. Everyone helped each other and they knew how to pace themselves between work and play. Even the children were this way!"

" I could only see a small amount of the streets through the curtains of the sitting box. Is the city well structured? Is it organized?" He questioned while helping himself to a handful of pistachios.

" Yes. Very much so. They have markets filled with all manner of flowers and fruits and fish. They sell textiles and jewelry unlike any I've seen before. And their streets are winding, almost maze-like in their construction. But they are built that way for a purpose… to protect the people from enemy attack and to buy the palace inhabitants time for retaliation or retreat."

The vizier was impressed. " This is true, for when we first arrived in Babylon we needed a guide to lead us to the palace. Were the task left to ourselves I fear we would never have found it. And who told you the reasoning behind the construction of Babylon's streets?"

" Prince Raheel. It was he who told me these things and a great deal more."

" He was open to you?"

" Yes. We spoke of many things together during my stay in his kingdom."

" And he never threatened you or did anything to cause you dishonor?"

Farah frowned. " No, of course not! I know the rumors and tales of Babylon are abundant but not all of them are true. Raheel is a good man and a dear friend to me."

" It seems he has certainly won your trust. What else can you share about his character?"

Farah smiled, enjoying the direction their topic of conversation had taken. " Well, lets see… he is strong-willed and focused upon any task he sets before himself. He never leaves anything he begins unfinished. He is very kind and knows how to hold his tongue and he also loves to share good things with others. I learned this truth one evening after helping look after the wounded in Babylon. I was quite hungry and he delivered to me a basket full of pomegranates!" Farah chuckled at the memory.

" He brought them to you himself?" Manessa asked with great surprise.

" Yes! So I returned the favor by delivering to him a basket of peaches."

" He likes peaches?"

" Raheel has an extraordinary penchant for them!" Farah smiled.

The vizier grinned. " Perhaps any man who loves peaches so dearly cannot be filled with anything more than goodness in his heart."

Farah laughed at that. " You may very well be right, Manessa."

They ate in silence for several moments before the vizier spoke again. " I imagine then that it was difficult to leave."

Farah became solemn. " Yes… and no. I do miss India… but I also miss the friendships that I found in Babylon."

" Did you bring nothing with you to remember Babylon by?"

" Actually I have a gift with me from Raheel, himself."

" A gift?"

" Yes. A book actually … written by his own hand."

Manessa noticed the increasing melancholy upon Farah's face and spoke softly. " Good friends are difficult to find. You should cherish that book."

" I will." Farah replied quietly before taking a sip of water. But her expression suddenly changed to one of keen attentiveness as she turned her gaze back to him. " Tell me, Manessa, what happened to my kingdom? What happened to my father's body?"

At this the vizier became solemn himself and set down his half-eaten pear. " Your kingdom was ravaged beyond saving. Most of its people were either killed or ran away. But your father's body was found and carried to king Bindusara who ordered your father be given a proper burial. The ceremony was one of the greatest India has ever seen."

Farah listened with tears in her eyes and nodded with satisfaction.

" Good. At least Zerband couldn't take away the love of the people."

" I must tell you though, princess," Manessa continued, " the king may not be with us for much longer. His health is failing him."

Farah stared at Manessa in surprise. " How?"

" We do not know. He began with a minor illness… one that should have passed over him many months ago. But instead… he has become increasingly weaker. He hardly eats now and it is apparent to all who see him that his time is drawing to a close.

But he remembers the wish of your father and does not desire that you be available for any other monarchs to take. So he is making plans to marry you to his eldest son, Ashoka… a mighty warrior himself."

Farah sat in silence for several minutes until she could think clearly again. " If this is true… might I contest the decision?"

" Do you not desire to fulfill your father's wish? Would you prefer to remain in Babylon?"

Farah shook her head. " Forgive me. I… Its just that… father's wish was for me to marry Bindusara."

" Your father was wise in this decision. Bindusara's kingdom is the richest and strongest in all of India now. Marriage to him or any of his sons would set you in the highest esteem. But even so… if there is any doubt over his decision then I suggest you speak with Bindusara directly."

Farah nodded reluctantly and finished what remained on her plate in silence. She wondered, for the second time that day, if she had made the right choice in returning to India.

* * *

He knew that time stopped for no one. But it was not the first time Raheel wished he could halt its passing during the moments he and Farah had shared together. He missed her desperately and many times caught himself wanting to seek her out in the gardens only to remember she was no longer in Babylon. Releasing a heavy sigh he returned to the present and looked at himself in the mirror. His new robes were still a bit loose about his waist and so he fastened the belt tighter.

A knock on the door to his private chambers disrupted him.

" Enter." He called and looked up as the door opened. The old sage stepped inside and nodded respectfully.

" May I speak with you for a few moments, my king? There is a pressing matter that has developed during your absence from home and I believe it imperative you know about these things before the close of today's ceremonies."

" Of course! Come in, come in." Raheel replied quickly. " You know that you can ask anything of me." He pulled over a chair and motioned for the old man to sit. Grateful for the thoughtfulness the old sage complied with a relieved sigh.

" Now tell me," Raheel began and pulled another chair closer before taking a seat beside his friend. " What pressing matter is on your mind?"

" Not long after you left to travel the world Babylon received word that the emperor of all Persia had died! It was quite unexpected. When your father inquired of more details the explanation given was that the emperor had died in his sleep from a weak heart. But your father never believed it. Gaumata, the emperor's chief general, took the crown for himself. The emperor had no sons and thus there was no one else to stand against Gaumata."

" How soon after the emperor's death did this happen?" Raheel asked.

" The same day." The old sage replied.

Raheel frowned. " How absurd… the emperor had not even been buried at that point!"

" Exactly." The old man continued. " Something was amiss. Sensing this, four of your cousins and two of your uncles conspired with your father to overthrow Gaumata. They discovered that he is not of any royal lineage and his coming to power could put an end to the rule of the Achaemenid dynasty! So, they had created a plan that relied heavily upon your father. But it never came to pass because of the attack on Babylon."

Raheel sat in silence, sifting through his thoughts to fill in the places of a history he had no memory of. The time line had changed more than he had first thought. Things were very different than what he had remembered when he first left home.

And as he worked to form new understanding the old man continued in a hurried tone. " And while Babylon struggled to regain its footing after the attack the other nobles in surrounding kingdoms had only recently heard of the tragedy that befell us! Gaumata, paranoid of treachery, had all the borders of every eastern province guarded and any activity within them reported to him. It has been nearly _impossible_ for the nobles themselves to communicate directly. They have to rely on spies and wait for the right time to send them forth."

" This is troubling news indeed." Raheel remarked, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

The old man shook his head sadly. " I apologize for not telling you earlier but I thought it best to wait until Babylon knew stability and the time for mourning had eased. I feared that all the events revealed at once might overwhelm you."

Raheel looked up at him. " I believe your judgment was correct. You are wise indeed, old friend."

" There is another reason for my insistence of you knowing these things before your coronation." The old sage continued.

" It is customary that any new king be summoned by the emperor and pledge allegiance to him."

Raheel sat up a bit straighter in his chair. " Are you saying that Gaumata will summon me immediately after?"

" There will be a messenger waiting to deliver the summons to you once the ceremonies have ended. But as for your departure… that can wait until a few days later. Regardless of when you actually leave it is imperative that you meet with the select counsel members who had supported your father in his quest. There will be a secret meeting held this evening in which you will be given more information."

A sudden knock on the door startled them both for a moment. A servant entered. " Forgive my intrusion but the hour of the ceremony is fast approaching and the king still needs to be measured for his ceremonial robe."

Raheel looked up at his friend apologetically.

The old man smiled. " We will meet again later. For now, prepare yourself for your people. This is a day of great celebration!" And with that he picked up his walking stick and hobbled out the door.

Raheel watched him go and stood to his feet, desperately working to keep his mounting nervousness at bay. And as the servants entered to measure his height and width he felt a wave of sadness pass through him. How deeply he yearned to share with Farah the things he had just learned. Speaking to her always helped him think more clearly. He sighed, hoping that he made the right choice in allowing her to return to India.

* * *

The heat of the desert rose and the horizon filled with a steamy haze. Farah sighed and set her fan down. It was hot even in the shade. Unwrapping a bit of her saree so that it fell off her shoulder, she glanced to her right and saw the vizier had fallen asleep. His head hung low so that his chin rested upon his chest and Farah idly wondered if he would awaken with a sore neck. But just then he shifted and settled into a more comfortable position.

Sighing once more she resorted to searching for interesting shapes in the clouds… whenever the sunlight wasn't blinding her vision. But after a few minutes she grew restless. Needing a distraction from mounting boredom and the inescapable heat Farah picked up Raheel's book. She leaned back against her side of the sitting box while her hands gently caressed the leather cover. It was hard for her to resist reading any book but this one held special meaning. And so she took her time, allowing memories of Raheel to flood her mind as she turned the pages.

She smiled at the memory of how he watched her with anticipation when she first read his words. How dearly she missed him.

Wistfully, she turned the pages until she found the leather bookmark. And as Farah resumed her reading she wondered about the man who had become so dear a friend. Raheel was wise beyond his years… for how could he have known that her restlessness would overcome her desire to fulfill her father's wish in the desert heat?

Raheel knew her better than she had thought. He understood that the best way to calm her was to engage her mind. And as her eyes read his words she found herself swept into the world of sand monsters, evil viziers, noble princes, and courageous princesses. Lands too beautiful for her to imagine in their fullness. And as they expanded before her mind she gladly immersed her consciousness into their fantasy.

* * *

Raheel stood just beyond the great, ornate doors of his throne room. Already he could hear the people cheering, calling for him to present himself to them as their new leader. The heaviness of that responsibility weighed down upon him and he felt for a moment as if he might swoon. The irony was not lost to him. He, a mighty warrior and prince of Babylon, having faced evils and powers unnatural to the world with no hesitation now shook with fear at the thought of sitting upon a throne! Would his father have approved? He couldn't even be certain anymore what his father thought of him… the timeline had changed in so many ways that his absence from home could have been on good standing!

In the end it didn't matter anymore because he would still be where he is at the moment. He could hear the crowd being hushed by the head of ceremonies. Soon it would be time for him to begin the next chapter of his life. His nervousness was mounting and he felt his mouth run dry. He hoped he could still speak once he reached his place upon the platform.

What if they didn't like him? What if he didn't have what it took to be a ruler? But just as these thoughts taunted him another one spoke louder, its message one of comfort and encouragement.

" _There is no secret to being a great ruler. You already have the greatness inside you… a tender and compassionate heart." _

Raheel bowed his head and squeezed the medallion that hung from around his neck. Those were Farah's words… even now in her physical absence she was helping him! Amazed at her power to encourage he allowed the image of her face to fill his mind. And after a few moments of mounting steadiness he took a deep breath and raised his chin high. He knew that whatever lay before him would be a challenge… it was good to be humble and uncertain of one's own capabilities. Perhaps all great rulers had these things in common.

Standing a bit taller he accepted his fate and stepped forward into the future that was solely his to live.

* * *


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: The Prince of Persia was created by Jordon Mechner who rightly holds all copyright privileges.

**Prince of Persia: Ascending The Throne**

_Chapter 6_

The atmosphere was one of solemnity and tension. Raheel looked at the faces of each man present. Some wore hopeful expressions… most were grave.

" These are dark times for Persia." One of them began, a man of commanding stature and a crisp, black goatee upon his chin. His eyes gazed at each face while he spoke, making certain they not only heard him but understood his meaning. " The emperor's evil grows with each passing day. Now he seeks to rid Persia of its _human_ w_aste_, as he puts it."

" What does that mean?" Another counsel member asked.

" He is trying to eradicate the elderly, the handicapped, and those too ill to lead normal lives." At this there was a murmur of disgust and abhorrence from all present.

" He must be stopped before things get worse!" An older member proclaimed, impassioned with righteous fury.

" This is preposterous! How could someone such as he ever gain so much power?!" Another counsel member agreed, slamming his fists onto the table and effectively upsetting his goblet of wine. Other members had raised their voices as well and filled the chamber with a confusing mass of vocal discontent.

" We must continue with the plan! We must hurry to complete it!" The original speaker continued, raising his voice to be heard over all others. Slowly the men returned their attention to him. When the head counsel man was certain of this he turned his focus upon their newest member.

" Raheel, it is our desire that you take your father's place in this plan. And even more so, that you become the new emperor of all Persia."

" And how would I accomplish a task such as what you are suggesting?" Raheel asked, a frown darkening his features.

" By killing the emperor and marrying our queen. Thus solidifying your place upon the highest throne."

Raheel had felt a development of this nature coming from the moment the meeting had begun. Leaning forward in his chair he took a moment to formulate a response. " I have often wondered what went on in my home while I was away. And it grieves me to hear how desperate things have become in our country. It grieves me even more to know that my father had a crucial role in correcting the evil that sickens our homeland and yet he was unable to fulfill it." Raheel paused and sat back, his eyes glancing over every face. " Before I agree to anything I feel it necessary to warn all of you that my strength has never been in political intrigue or espionage. But give me a sword and I can make quick work of any enemy." A hum of agreement swept through the group.

" Do you believe our purpose to be one of goodness and right in regards to the future of our people?" A counsel member to his right asked with focused attentiveness.

" I do." Raheel replied at length.

" Then rise great king of Babylon and take your father's place with confidence. Experience in these matters can only come by living them."

Raheel nodded in understanding and sensed a new challenge arising in his future. It both thrilled and concerned him. The thought of marrying someone for political gain did not sit well with him. But he had heard that Atossa, born and raised in Babylon, possessed a good heart and retained youthful beauty. Still… she was not Farah. Could he truly marry someone he did not love? And if he did… could he forgive himself for it?

" Gaumata will most assuredly summon you in the hopes of swaying your allegiance to himself." A counsel member across the table explained. " Your father was to feign compliance and gain Gaumata's confidence. This task now falls to you. It will be a dangerous act but one in which you must succeed."

Raheel picked up his goblet and cast his gaze beyond the grand arches of the windows. " Yes… I know." He replied solemnly.

" We do not ask for a decision today on all we have just told you. But we must know before tomorrow's end." The head counsel man informed him. " And now… if there are no further questions or instructions…" He paused to give anyone a chance to speak. When the silence remained he continued. " Let us finish here, that our king might rest and prepare for what is to come."

And at that, the counsel convened. While the counsel men quietly filed out of the meeting chamber Raheel stared at the parchment that lay before him, proudly displaying the signatures of all present. His alone was missing. And he sighed, looking at the blank space meant to hold his name… just under that of his father's.

* * *

Farah sighed with relief, thankful to have finally reached her destination. And after a night's rest in a proper bed she felt rejuvenated. At length, she was visited by the vizier who bowed respectfully and informed her that she had been summoned.

The halls of the maharajah's palace were grand and majestic. Arches and concaves gilded with gold decorated the ceilings. Marble columns carved with ornate designs lined the walls and the floor shone with the most perfectly cut mosaic tiles. Farah followed the vizier to the grand doors of maharajah Bindusara's private chambers. As the doors were opened she saw, in the very center of a large and grand chamber, a canopied bed of silk and chiffon. And surrounding the bed were screens of fine iron filigree. Hanging down from four pillars at each corner of the bed were tapestries displaying the royal emblem. Upon closer inspection the design reminded her of the ocellus on a peacock's feather. A large, eyelike spot on an otherwise spotless display of finely woven textile.

It was a breathtaking sight to behold and Farah stared for several moments at the splendor of it all.

" Can it be?... Is this vision before me the same sweet, little princess of India's wisest maharajah?" A kind and dignified voice spoke from behind the curtains.

Farah looked towards the voice and saw the canopied curtains part to reveal Bindusara himself. His face was one of dignity and kindness and his arms were spread wide in welcome. Quickly she fell to her knees, bowing her head low in respect.

" Oh come now! There is no need for protocol between us! We are practically family!" He replied, unable to keep the smile hidden from his words as he bid her rise and welcomed her with a warm embrace.

" It is so good to see you here in good health! I and my people had feared the worst when your kingdom was destroyed. Those were dark days for India… and the darkest for you, I imagine."

Farah nodded. " Yes… very dark. And what has become of my people… the ones that survived?"

Bindusara bade her sit while he motioned for his servants to offer food and wine. After she had settled Bindusara resumed their conversation, picking a cluster of grapes and a slice of apricot for his plate.

" Those who survived the attack upon your kingdom took shelter in surrounding provinces and a handful, those who survived the treachery within the royal court, came to us. They brought with them your father's body."

Farah listened intently, waiting to hear what more there was to know. And at length Bindusara spoke again. " They had traveled for many days and had not the proper time or facility to prepare your father's body. So there was a smell by the time they arrived. We had to bury your father that same day… but I commanded that a great monument be erected over the place of his final rest and that a grand ceremony be held. I also decreed that a time of mourning be recognized over the course of the following two weeks." Bindusara leaned closer to Farah, his eyes gazing steadily into hers. " Your father was a great maharajah… perhaps the wisest our country has ever seen. And yet not even he could have imagined the evil that finally took his life."

Farah nodded in silence. Words could not properly express the emotions that raged inside her at the memories of those days. Perhaps sensing her inner turmoil, Bindusara chose that moment to change the topic of conversation.

" But hope survives all things. You were unharmed and returned to us! This… is a cause for great celebration. Once you have rested you will be presented to the people for they have been eagerly awaiting your return. And you will have opportunity to meet my youngest son, Akbar."

" I remember him!" Farah replied with a smile. " He was just a babe last I saw his face. He cried whenever he was taken from my arms." She laughed.

" Yes! He was quite taken by you." Bindusara laughed. " Of course much has taken place since that time. He is now grown with a wife and children of his own."

" Really?" Farah exclaimed in surprise. " And your eldest son?"

" Ashoka." Bindusara replied, a gleam of pride in his eyes.

" He has grown in strength and power. A true warrior. It is he whom I have chosen to take my place upon the throne when the time comes."

Farah looked at him then with compassion. " But surely that time is still long in coming. You look well for someone who is deathly ill."

At this Bindusara wilted. " It is the nature of this infernal disease to torture me with days of strength. The truth is that the manner in which you see me today is rare. By tonight I will have little strength to even raise my own head. My time, dear Farah, is drawing to a close."

At this Farah set her plate down and drew closer to him, grasping one of his hands in her own. " Then let me nurse you back to health. Let me help you regain the glory of your strength! I will bring you joy and happiness."

Bindusara gently caressed her cheek, a soft, tender expression in his eyes. " I have no doubt that you would do your utmost to accomplish these things. But it would not be enough, dear one. Your father could not have known all the evils that befell our country when he promised you to me. And I do not wish to see the shadow of grief veil your eyes.

This is why I have chosen to pass your hand to Ashoka. He is full of life and vitality and will bring you all manner of pleasures… many of which I am now incapable of giving you."

" Those things do not matter to me!" Farah countered. " I only wish to fulfill the desires of my heart through the direction of my father. To marry you was his wish for my future."

" But it cannot be, Farah." Bindusara replied firmly. " I will not allow you to be shouldered with grief so soon after your wedding night. Neither, do I believe, would your father have wished that for you."

At this, Farah fell silent for she realized that arguing the point any further would prove fruitless. So with great humility she swallowed her pride and last hope for happiness.

" Very well." She replied quietly. " Let it be as you desire."

And as the words left her lips she wondered, not for the first time, if continuing with the betrothal had been a terrible mistake.

Bindusara nodded contentedly. " Very good! You bring me great joy in obeying my wish. May the gods richly bless you for this! And now, my servants will escort you to your rooms where you will rest and prepare for tonight's celebration."

Farah rose to her feet and did as told, sparing a final glance back before leaving his chambers. And as she followed her escorts through the many large and grand halls she found herself hoping that Raheel was faring better than she.

* * *

The sound of water gently lapping against its marble enclosure soothed his racing thoughts. Sitting, surrounded on all sides by lush foliage and the sweet aroma of lavender and mint, Raheel found it easier to reflect on past and future events. His fingers found Farah's medallion and his mind flooded with memories of her. Every day they spent together was a delight and every small brush of a hand or soft touch of a finger thrilled him unlike anything he had ever known. He closed his eyes and remembered the kiss she gave him on the day she departed. And if he concentrated long enough he could still recall the private swim they shared in the magical caverns of Izaad. How he yearned to feel her pressed to himself… how he hungered for the taste of her lips.

Now that she was gone the hanging gardens held a sad solace to him. They brought both comfort and grief… an ever present reminder of her. And at length he sighed. He missed the impromptu picnics they shared, the random target sessions with bow and arrow, and the playful manner in which they teased each other. And as he thought on these things he became increasingly restless. Fate was so cruel and unfair! How could it not see that he and Farah were right for each other!

Suddenly angry at the entire situation Raheel picked up a stick and flung it into the thick of the nearest foliage. It was too much to hope for that she would have stayed with him. No matter how much time he shared by her side she would forever chose to walk away… taking his heart with her.

" Ah! I thought I might find you here." Startled out of his thoughts Raheel quickly rose to find the old man drawing closer, his walking stick leaving small rounded impressions in the grass.

" Hello, old friend." Raheel smiled. " What brings you to search for me out here? Surely I could have gone to you. You should not exhaust yourself so!"

" Oh pish-posh!" The old man replied with a snort. " I may need a walking stick to aid my steps but I am certainly not invalid! Well… not yet."

Raheel offered him his arm and they stepped over to a nearby bench.

" Thank you, Raheel. Please… do not concern yourself so much with me. Sit. I wish to speak to you about the plan."

At the mention of it Raheel's entire countenance tensed.

" This is a very dangerous venture but one that must be accomplished. If it is not, then everything your father and your forefathers have fought so hard to attain will be lost."

" And so it falls to me." Raheel sighed.

" Yes. But find comfort in knowing you are not alone in this struggle." The old man continued, resting his hands upon the top of his walking stick. " I do believe that you will accomplish all that your father could not. And I am certain he knew your life would accomplish great things."

" Hm." Raheel replied, quietly comforted by the firm conviction of his teacher and closest friend.

The old man studied him for a moment, finally resting his gaze upon the medallion that hung from around Raheel's neck. " That medallion you wear…"

At the mention of it Raheel touched it with his fingertips and, after a moment of consideration, removed the medallion so that they could both gaze at it more clearly.

" Is that not the royal emblem of India's former kingdom?"

Raheel nodded, admiring the way the light reflected off its surface. " It belonged to Farah. She used to keep it close to her heart. When Zerband took her captive she hid it under her armor while he destroyed all objects that held this royal emblem.

I was surprised when she gave it to me… she said that it would be refashioned into the emblem of maharajah Bindusara should it return with her to India. The thought grieved her and so she asked that I keep it safe and remember her whenever I looked upon it."

The old sage looked at him in surprise, realizing in that moment that Raheel was in love with the Indian princess.

" Pardon me for being so bold but… do you love her?"

At the question Raheel paused. But at length he nodded with conviction. " Yes, old friend. I love her dearly."

The old man gave him a sympathetic smile.

" I'm not certain exactly when it happened… only that it did. She fills me with such joy! Whenever I am with her I feel as if the whole world could pass away and yet… I would not mind as long as we were together. She is in my thoughts when I awake in the mornings and when I lie down at night. And ever since her departure I have not stopped wondering about her. I pray that she is safe… that she is happy."

The old sage rested a hand upon Raheel's shoulder and they sat in silence for several minutes. Only the gentle sound of the water fountain and the distant songs of birds could be heard. Raheel rubbed the medallion's face with the calloused pad of his thumb. His adventures in Izaad seemed so far away at the present moment… as were the memories he and Farah shared in the hanging gardens together. And as his mind wandered through his memories he suddenly recalled part of their final conversations together. Farah's words to him were still alive and penetrating.

" … there is no mystery behind a great ruler…"

The old man looked at him with confusion. " I'm sorry?"

Raheel looked up at him for a moment. " Those were her words to me that final day. She had explained to me that the greatness I perceived in the rulers of old were not attained by any single act. In fact, they were never attained by any actions at all but rather by something that already resided in their hearts."

" And what did they have in their hearts?" The old man asked.

" Humility." Raheel replied looking back at him.

" Ah. A noble quality indeed. And a wise one to nurture." The old sage replied. " The princess was correct to explain this truth to you. She is wise beyond her years." The old man mused.

" Remember her words… they will keep you safe."

Raheel nodded. " Yes. But it is her courage and selflessness that has impressed me most. She was ready to forfeit her personal happiness for the betterment of others. It is her greatest strength and most glorious radiance."

The old man smiled at him then, a knowing twinkle in his eyes. Raheel did not see it… his attention was once again on the medallion he still held within his hands.

Raheel set his shoulders straight and raised his gaze into the distance. " I believe it is time I follow her example." He suddenly proclaimed and once again hung the medallion around his neck. And with a determined glint in his eyes he turned his full attention to his old friend. " I want you to know first before all others that I accept Persia's highest throne. When we are successful I will assume all responsibility associated with this acceptance… including my union with Persia's queen."

The old man nearly jumped to his feet, overjoyed at the decision. " My dear young man!" And he took hold of Raheel's face. " My joy at this moment knows no bounds! How honored I am to have had a hand in raising you!" And he kissed Raheel on both cheeks to emphasize his point. " May you and your children and your _childrens_' children be blessed with long life and the greatest happiness!" And as he said these things his eyes caught the gleam from the medallion. Slowly he looked back into Raheel's gaze. " And may Farah, the wise and beautiful princess of India, be blessed for her part in nurturing such honor in your character. Perhaps, if your love for Farah is reciprocated the gods might bring you back together again."

* * *

Still smelling the rose water that she had immersed herself in only hours before, Farah awoke from her nap refreshed and a bit excited to join the festivities made in her honor. The scent of sweet-burning incense filled the room and a servant presented her with new robes of finely spun silk. The colors of yellow and various shades of green appealed to Farah as she discarded her sleeping garment for the celebration attire. Another servant approached her with intricately jeweled earrings, necklaces, and bangles. Enchanted by all the splendor Farah sighed in contentment, having forgotten how good it felt to be served upon as a royal.

And as she mused over this yet another servant arrived and administered botanical creams and ointments to enhance her skin and give her face a beautiful glow. Shimmering powders were pressed upon her cheeks and dark paint delicately drawn over the seductive curves of her eyes. Farah gazed upon her image in the mirror with happiness. It would be more than enough to enchant any man who looked upon her that night. But just as her mirth was stirred it suddenly dissipated. Raheel would not see her in all this splendor… nor did she suspect that he would ever see her again. And the thought brought tears to her eyes so that she had to look away.

Lead through the many splendid halls Farah was finally brought to a large chamber, greater than any she had seen in the palace thus far. And in the center was a long table adorned with many kinds of fruits and nuts and breads and wines. Flowers were set in gold vases and even the couches were handsomely decorated with draped blankets and cushions. Servants stood at each couch holding peacock and ostrich feathers should any guest desire a light breeze. And as Farah gazed upon all the loveliness a young man stepped forward and bowed.

" A thousand blessings be upon you dearly loved princess." And he raised his face to hers. " I am Akbar, prince of Unipur and youngest son of maharajah Bindusara. It brings me great pleasure and joy to welcome you back amongst us." And he took hold of her hand and kissed it.

Farah gazed upon him with astonishment for the young man was very handsome and so different than anything she could have imagined. " Akbar? Could you be the little one I held in my arms when you were but a babe?"

At this he looked up at her in surprise. " If I am, then I was indeed blessed by the gods!" And he smiled warmly.

Farah laughed and bade him rise. " You have your father's charm! How happy you have made me by being here this evening!"

" I am glad!" He smiled and offered her his arm. Together they walked to the first two couches nearest them and took their seats. As they made themselves comfortable musicians began to play upon their instruments while dancers took to their art at every corner of the grand dining chamber. Everywhere she looked Farah found beauty… not one space was left untouched by the experienced hands of artisans.

" What a beautiful palace home you have." She began while her eyes wandered in exploration of her surroundings.

" It is beautiful isn't it?" Akbar replied. " But I no longer call this place my home."

Farah looked at him in surprise. " Oh? And why is that?"

" I have my own palace and people to lead now."

" Is this so?" Farah asked, impressed at his accomplishments at such a young age. " And what is the name of your kingdom?"

" Baluchistan. It is a fledgling kingdom right now… but one that holds great promise. We are in a strategic place between the borders of Persia and India. Our strength lies in trading of goods and our advantage is one of unifying two countries previously alienated from each other."

" Akbar… this is fascinating! I am thrilled at your accomplishments! How did this come about?"

" Well, it is a long story but one I will gladly share with you at a later time. For now let me just say that Baluchistan was once ruled by Persia."

" How fascinating!" Farha exclaimed, intrigued at the history of his kingdom. " I would love to visit and see it for myself."

" Then I shall take you before this week is done!"

" R-really? Is it close enough to be reached in so short a time?"

" It is only three days journey if one does not stop the final night. Baluchistan is filled with so much mystery and culture that I am certain you will enjoy yourself there." Akbar continued with a disarming smile.

" Then take me, Akbar! Take me to your kingdom of Baluchistan so that I might lose myself in its mysterious loveliness!" And she raised her goblet to him.

" As you wish oh glorious and beautiful princess!" And he raised his own goblet to hers so that they toasted in agreement to the trip.

" And now," He continued after taking a few sips of wine, " Let us eat!"

Farah laughed as his eyes widened in excitement at the platter set before him. A roasted bird smoked before his nose, its meat glistening with tantalizing juices. " One must quickly partake of all the platters on this table. If not… there might not be any left to try once they reach the other end." And he pointed to several noblemen seated further down the table eyeing the platters with excitement.

Farah smiled and nodded to him. " Thank you for the advice! I will take it to heart." And she busied herself with choosing what to place upon her plate.

And as Farah dined with Akbar and the others that night she noticed that Bindusara never appeared.

The hours seemed to pass by quickly and soon it was evident that sleep was on the forefront of many minds. So it was with reluctance that she rose from her couch, intent on bidding Akbar a goodnight. But he surprised her by offering to escort her back to her chambers. Happy to keep his company a bit longer Farah complied.

As they walked through the many halls and corridors Akbar shared more about his past and those of his family. " I once had nine brothers." He began.

" Nine? What happened?" She asked warily, fully aware of the possibilities for their deaths.

" Most of them died in wars and conflicts. Three of them died from illnesses. So now it is just Ashoka and myself."

" I am truly sorry for your loss, Akbar. I too know what it is like to lose brothers." She replied solemnly.

" I know and I thank you, Farah. You have a tender heart. But I mentioned my brothers to bring back the conversation we had begun earlier concerning Baluchistan."

" Oh?"

" You see, father could not decide which of us deserved the throne so he created a test. Whomever conquered a new land for India first would be the next king. Ashoka was amongst the strongest and bravest of all our brothers and where the others' fates turned against them, his only brought success. He returned one day triumphant and surprised father with newly conquered land...Baluchistan. To this day no one knows exactly how he managed it. But once father gave Ashoka the right to succeed him he no longer held interest in Baluchistan. So I asked to be made ruler over its people for I enjoy the politics involved with negotiation. I find the challenge… invigorating!"

Farah smiled at him. " And no one could hope for anyone more naturally suited for the task."

Akbar blushed at the compliment. " Thank you."

" So what did Ashoka do instead of ruling the land he had conquered?"

" Well, Ashoka desired to continue expanding father's kingdom. And so he continues to this day."

Farah fell silent for several moments before speaking again.

" What is Ashoka like?"

" With Ashoka you will desire nothing! He lavishes his wives with all manner of delights."

"How many wives does he currently have?"

" Fourteen. You will be amongst his oldest wives. But I dare say that you are by far the loveliest of them all."

Farah gave him a half-hearted smile.

" How old is his youngest wife?"

" She will be thirteen this month."

Farah felt the pain of disappointment, realizing that she would be a trophy to Ashoka more than anything else. And as they finally arrived to her chamber doors she thanked Akbar for his kindness.

" I will come and take you away to Baluchistan tomorrow. I promise to give you a good time!" And with that he bowed and went his way.

Farah returned to her chambers with mixed emotions. She was thankful for the acceptance and love she found in Bindusara's court. But she also worried about the character of Ashoka. Would he be a good king? Did he care for the people as his brother Akbar and his father did? And as she undressed Farah found herself yearning once more for Raheel's company. How dearly she wanted to speak to him about these things and hear his thoughts on the matter. But there was nothing that could be done about that and so she prepared for sleep and tried to quell a growing sense of unsettledness.

* * *

It was late evening when Raheel entered the outer courtyard. Camels and horses were being given their various burdens to carry for the ensuing trip through desert lands. Glancing up at the sky Raheel felt satisfied with the chosen hour of departure. For it was always preferable to traverse the deserts when the sun no longer shone at its most brilliant. And indeed, the most desired hours of travel in desert lands were those of the night. But it carried dangers beyond those of nature… many thieves and warring nomads roamed the deserts at night. And Raheel secured his sword within its sheath at the thought. He did not worry about attacks. Prior experience with the magical Sands of Time had prepared him far better than any war ever could. But if he had learned nothing else he knew it was wise to always be prepared.

With confidence Raheel mounted his horse and wrapped his scarves about his neck. The sky promised a storm and heightened the desert's natural unpredictability. There was no telling what he might encounter and so extra scarves, for tents or blankets, were packed with his belongings. He double checked his water supply and patted his horse, who was eager for the journey to begin. In front and behind were many more servants and soldiers. And by order of the counsel a new captain of the guard was chosen and instructed to travel along with him.

Raheel's mind was set on reaching the heart of Persia and meeting its newly, self-proclaimed emperor. He was focused and intent… stern in countenance and a bit restless.

" Remember, dear king," The old man spoke to him from below. " You will not be alone in your efforts. Your cousins have already sent ahead spies in our favor. They have key positions in Gaumata's court but you will not know who they are. Do not worry about trying to discover them for they have specific instructions to come to you at the end of each night. Even so, never let your guard down. If you do not believe your own behavior towards Gaumata then he will most certainly see through your facade."

Raheel nodded, his heart pounding faster at the thought of his heavy responsibility. And as he took hold of his horse's reins he suddenly paused. Quickly unraveling his scarves he removed the medallion from about his neck.

" My friend," He began and carefully, almost reverently, handed the medallion down to the old man.

" Take care of this for me until my task is done. Return it to my keeping when I am crowned sovereign, that I might never forget the loved ones who carried me this far."

The old man nodded solemnly and pressed the medallion close to his chest.

" It shall be done, my king."

And with one final gaze upon his home Raheel commanded his horse forward, determined to meet the emperor and finally bring the plan into motion.

* * *


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: The Prince of Persia was created by Jordon Mechner who rightly holds all copyright privileges.

**Prince of Persia: Ascending The Throne**

_Chapter 7_

The desert winds were calm, despite earlier signs of an impending storm, and the journey across the hot sands remained uneventful. Raheel found himself with too much time for rumination. And it was during the hours of rest that he yearned most for distraction, or at least a dreamless sleep. For this reason he would not pause to rest for long and those in company with him grew weary of the incessant pace.

" My king," The captain addressed him, steering his horse to flank Raheel's side. " Do you wish to stop and rest for a short while?"

Raheel looked at him and shook his head. " I'm fine, captain. My travels in the world have given me mastery over rugged terrain and the absence of lavish comforts. I can continue."

There was silence for several moments and Raheel noticed that the captain did not leave his side.

" I am glad that your strength is so resilient, my king! But…" And at the captain's pause Raheel slowed his pace to look at him. " … your servants are growing weary. Might we halt to give _them_ a moments respite?"

Raheel glanced back over his shoulder. Many of his men looked disenchanted and most seemed ready to collapse onto the sands. Raheel stopped his horse and smirked at the captain. " Perhaps it would be wise."

The days turned into weeks and the weeks turned into a month. Raheel acquainted himself with as many soldiers as he could and great respect was born for him during the journey. Soldiers swore to each other that they would gladly die to protect him should any danger threaten their good king.

Time passed. And it was nearing the second week of the second month when, suddenly, Raheel and his captain sighted the city skyline.

" Behold, my king!" The captain announced and pointed into the distance. " It is the capitol. We have arrived."

Raheel rode beside him, his face grave and his spirit heavy with responsibility. And as he and all those in his company approached the palace he felt a change, a subtle shift in his own person. It would be in only a few hours that he would transform himself into another entity… and it was with great reluctance that he began to recall the memories of his darker self. Despite the horrifying experience of his sand-infested transformations, they had taught him a great deal about misplaced passions and desires.

And as Raheel thought on these things, he and his men entered into the palace courtyard. Despite the beauty and splendor his eyes beheld, he knew there was great darkness there. Zerband had been cruel to the people of Babylon. He had been an evil that Raheel could explain for there was nothing between them in common. This time, however… Raheel realized that he would be facing a new evil, much more intimidating than any others he had faced in the past. For this enemy was grown within his own people… indeed, Gaumata was Persian through and through! How a man could betray his own people, his own race was unimaginable to Raheel.

" Welcome, great and brave Prince of Babylon!" A voice boomed down into the courtyard and effectively interrupted his thoughts. He and all his entourage looked up at a grand balcony where Gaumata himself stood smiling.

" I cannot tell you how great a pleasure it is for me to see you here this day."

Raheel slowly dismounted his horse and bowed to the ground, much to his displeasure. When he looked up again Gaumata no longer stood alone. Beside him was a woman. She wore rich robes of deep purple and gold. But because of the height and distance between the balcony and himself Raheel could not make out any details of her face.

" I and Persia's lovely queen Atossa bid you rest and extend to you all the riches and comforts of this great land."

Raheel gave him a cocky smile. " The pleasure is all mine, I assure you!"

Gaumata laughed heartily and disappeared from view. But Atossa remained fixed on Raheel and he felt her eyes on him while he removed his bundled belongings from his horse. At length Gaumata emerged from the palace to join Raheel and his company in the main courtyard.

Gaumata was an intimidating man. Broad shoulders, tall, and with piercing dark eyes he was not someone to be ignored. And if his physical presence did not intimidate his countenance, punctuated by a deep voice, would certainly do the trick. Many servants followed Gaumata into the courtyard and immediately took to the task of aiding Raheel's men who were still relieving their animals from their loads.

" You must be weary from your travels." Gaumata began.

Raheel turned to him with an arrogant air. " I do not weary from travel. I have been to many lands, fought in many wars, and suffered far worse than a little discomfort in a desert."

" Indeed." Gaumata smirked. " Well then, perhaps after you are situated in a suite of your liking we can continue a proper conversation… over wine."

At that Gaumata left him in the care of his servants. Raheel was happy to see him go and frowned at the prospect of spending the rest of his day with the man. For although he had stated that travel gave him no weariness, the truth was that he was indeed quite tired.

* * *

Farah smiled. The land of Baluchistan enthralled her.

" I see you enjoy the mixed cultures." Akbar stated, a knowing gleam in his eyes.

Farah nodded. " This is incredible! I never knew that such a place could exist! Imagine, two different cultures coming together as one! And everyone is so accepting of each other's differences…."

" This is my vision for India. This is what I hope Ashoka will strive for once he takes the throne." Akbar replied.

Farah looked at him with admiration and respect. " I think it is a noble dream."

" But before we do anything else I must introduce you to my wife. Come. I will lead you." And so Akbar led Farah through many streets filled with all manner of people, animals, and sights. And he bade her taste from the rich variety of food in a bazaar along the way.

And when at long last they arrived at an extravagantly decorated, private entrance, Farah realized they arrived at his home.

" Welcome!" He smiled and unlocked a wooden door, ornamented beautifully with hand-made stars and flowers.

As Farah entered she found herself stepping into a private courtyard. It was lavished with tiles and foliage and water fountains. And placed throughout the garden were couches and lanterns and cushions of fine embroidery. Farah felt as if she could remain there perfectly content.

" Akbar, this is so beautiful!" She breathed.

" Come." He smiled. And he led her through the courtyard until they found the center. A large fountain bubbled with clear water and rose petals floated in its pool. And it took Farah a few moments to realize that she and Akbar were no longer alone. For as she turned a woman stood beside her. She had gentle eyes and dark hair that fell down to her ankles.

" Hello." The woman greeted.

Akbar smiled proudly and kissed the woman on the cheek. " And this beauty is my wife, Jasmin."

Farah smiled. " Hello, Jasmin. It is a pleasure to meet you."

Jasmin bade both of them a warm welcome and led them to a prepared place within the courtyard where tea and fruits and sweets of all kinds were already set and waiting. Two women stood at the ready with fans and smiled a warm welcome of their own.

" Ah!" Akbar smiled and gently kissed each of them. " And these two lovely creatures are my concubines. Both of them were gifts to me from Persian nobility as signs of peace."

Farah smiled at them and gracefully took a seat at one of the couches. " You have a lovely dwelling Akbar." She sighed.

And as Akbar and Jasmin followed her lead Farah continued.

" Since you were given such beautiful gifts, am I correct in believing that you easily communicate with the rulers of Persia?"

Akbar smiled. " Yes. I take pride in keeping communication and negotiations open with Persia's rulers. I find it keeps the peace much better and everyone benefits. In fact, merchants travel back and forth frequently and trading has become our greatest source of income."

Jasmin smiled at Akbar lovingly. Farah noticed and wondered if she too would have been as happy had she remained with Raheel in Babylon. And as she wondered Akbar continued.

" But although there is no danger for merchants within Baluchistan traveling here from Persia can be quite treacherous."

" Why is that?" Farah asked, leaning back against cushions.

" Merchants must be careful when traveling to Baluchistan because sand storms arise very quickly in the desert valleys and they are very fierce. Just last month a whole caravan was lost to the sands."

" How terrible!" Farah remarked, her eyes wide in disbelief. " Is it often that this happens?"

" Thankfully no. Most people know to be prepared and wary of the desert winds."

Jasmin served a cup of tea to Akbar and then to Farah who accepted the offering with a bright smile. " Oh, thank you Jasmin." And Farah lifted the cup to her nose. The sweet smell of mint tingled her senses. " Mm. Mint tea. Did you know that this is my favorite?"

" Really?" Jasmin asked with brilliant smile of her own.

" Yes. I would spend many afternoons drinking tea with father when I was younger. This brings back many fond memories for me."

Akbar smiled and Jasmin bowed her head graciously. " You honor me with your kind words."

Farah took a long sip and sighed contentedly. " Well, then I suppose my honoring you is well deserved."

Jasmin looked to Akbar. " You did not tell me that the princess was just as beautiful on the inside as she is on the outside."

Farah smiled at them and set her cup down. " Thank you… both of you, for giving me such a warm welcome. And if it is alright I would like to know more about your trading business, Akbar."

Akbar inclined his head to her. " Of course. What would like to know?"

* * *

Gaumata stared at Raheel while sipping at his wine. Raheel was preoccupied studying a map laid out before him. His eyes roamed the mountains and valleys, deserts and cities. Many kingdoms were painted over with a red x.

" What do the xs mean?" He finally asked and reached for his goblet.

" Those are kingdoms that must be destroyed. They must make way for a new order." Gaumata explained patiently.

Raheel tilted his head and summoned all the cunning he could recall from his darker self. " It sounds to me as if you have already begun."

Gaumata quirked an eyebrow at him. " Hm. You are quick, Sharaman. I have indeed begun the task of creating the new order."

" _Your_ new order." Raheel corrected.

" Is there any other?" Gaumata replied and rose from his chair. He moved closer to Raheel and pointed to Babylon. " But the fate of this kingdom…" Gaumata lightly twisted the tip of a knife into the parchment, piercing Babylon's letters in the process. "… remains undecided."

Raheel leaned back in his chair, pushing down his anger and natural penchant to act and deal with consequences later. Nonchalantly he swirled the wine in his goblet, appearing in all regards lost in thought for a moment. " Perhaps it would be in my best interest to know what it is you want."

" Quick to the point, I see." Gaumata smirked. " Very well. I ask for your complete and utter allegiance to me. And in return…" He stared hard at Raheel. " I will let you remain as ruler over your kingdom, under my supervision of course. But you will still have great freedom and if I see your service is of high standard I will even grant you more land to govern."

Raheel sighed, feigning boredom. " And if I refuse…"

Gaumata gave him a mirthless smile. " I suppose Babylon will be given a red x. The rest I leave to your imagination."

" Well," Raheel began and rose from his chair. " It sounds like your offer has its… advantages. But is the governing of more land the only gift I can count on receiving for loyal service?"

Gaumata frowned. " What more could you want?"

" Oh, I don't know…" Raheel continued coyly. " Perhaps a palace reserved strictly for my own harems."

Gaumata smiled devilishly and nodded. " Good, good. I like the way you think. If its harems you want, so you shall have. Come. I will give you a rare glimpse into my own. We can continue our conversation there."

At that Gaumata bid Raheel to follow him and together they walked through private halls until they entered a large courtyard.

" No one is allowed past this point unless I bring them personally." Gaumata explained. " Prepare yourself for the beauty you shall see." And he led Raheel to a secret entrance behind a large fountain. There he produced a key from within his robes and unlocked an iron door.

Upon entering they were soon within a second courtyard, lush with fauna and lavishly decorated with silk and satin curtains. At the furthest corner Raheel could just make out the shapes of women reclining or sleeping and Gaumata strode out to the center of the garden. " Come to me." He commanded and soon women left the shadows of their hidden places to join him.

He turned then to Raheel and bid him come. Raheel had no choice and soon found himself surrounded by hundreds of young women, some seeming to be no older than thirteen years of age. There were all manner of women, some tall, some short, some thin, some not. And they were in all states of dress… and undress.

Raheel felt his cheeks burn hotly as someone placed her hands in a decidedly uncomfortable place. Acting or not he couldn't remain there amongst them for long. His natural desires were awakening and he glanced at Gaumata who was already undressing. It was in that same moment that Raheel realized busy hands were in the process of doing the same with him.

" That's it. Let them take you away as they always do me." Gauamata instructed from somewhere back and to Raheel's left.

But the moment someone tugged at his pants, intent on pulling them down, Raheel snapped back to his senses and quickly disentangled himself from the female throng. Without a second thought he sprinted for the door and then stopped at its entrance. Suddenly thinking twice about simply running out without explanation, he turned back. His eyes roamed the harem for Gaumata and found him busy with several young women.

" I best not." Raheel murmured to himself, shaking his head and stepping out once again.

As he hurried back the way he had come he reflected on how his darker self would have welcomed the experience.

" And why not? Would it really have been so wrong to indulge just a little? You, of all people, deserve a bit of pleasure."

Raheel paused in his steps. For the voice in his head was one he had thought vanished. But even though surprised, he did not hesitate to put the inner darkness in its place.

" Some experiences are not meant to be had." He replied. And Raheel recalled the scene he had fled. He frowned, unable to believe how young some of the women had been. " They're just children… I imagine most of them have never even been in love."

" Who needs love when lust is ready and able to meet all your natural desires?"

" Lust can never give what only love can offer and this is the end of our conversation."

With that said the dark voice was silenced and Raheel continued to his suite undisturbed.

* * *

The afternoon waned into evening and Farah was enthralled with the explanations Akbar shared about Baluchistan and its successful rise of a previously poor economy.

" And with all the merchants that enter Baluchistan do you hear any news from Babylon?" She asked, watching a few servants light candles set discreetly about the private courtyard.

" Yes. All the time, actually." He replied. But any further conversation was halted when a messenger hurried into their presence.

" Yes? What is it?" Akbar asked with a mixture of concern and impatience.

" Pardon me for intruding but I have just received word that Bindusara's health is failing him. Your presence and that of princess Farah are urgently requested."

" Then we will leave at once." Akbar replied, rising to his feet. Farah rose as well and wondered if it wasn't already too late to see Bindusara again.

As if he could hear her thoughts Akbar turned to her. " Do not fear, Farah. I believe we shall yet speak to my father. But we must make haste!"

" What would be the fastest way back?"

" By horse. But it would be a difficult journey. Perhaps it would be better that I go ahead whilst you return by more comfortable means. I will have my best camel prepared-"

" No need! I have traveled by horse before."

At that Akbar turned to her, stunned speechless. " Y-you?"

Farah smiled. " I had brothers, remember?"

Akbar chuckled softly. " You have indeed lived quite a fascinating life."

Farah nodded, her attitude grave once again. " I suppose it is my fate… and perhaps that of those who get too close to me."

" Now none of that." Akbar admonished gently and ushered her inside. " Jasmin will manage our provisions. I will ready the horses. You simply worry about being well rested. If you lack anything simply ask and you shall have it."

Farah could not rest for she was filled with dread. Since she had made the decision to return to India nothing had gone according to what she had envisioned. And as the evening darkened Akbar came for her and they hurried to the stable. Jasmin was waiting for them with a worried and sympathetic smile. She quietly bade Akbar safe travel and wished Farah the same. As they each mounted black stallion Akbar turned to Farah.

" The journey is normally seven hours but now that it is night we can travel further without stopping. It is possible for us to arrive at the palace in six hours."

" Good news for us then." Farah replied. " We will not have to worry about the heat."

" True. But the night has dangers of its own. Bandits and ruffians abound in the outskirts of the city. So stay close to my side."

Farah nodded to him as she wrapped her scarves about her head and covered the lower portion of her face.

" Do be careful, my love." Jasmin urged him as he leaned down to drop one last kiss upon her lips. And with one last look back at his home Akbar spurred his stallion forward, Farah following close behind.

* * *

The captain looked around again with obvious unease, his gaze settling upon a balcony high above them.

" You are particularly disquieted tonight." Raheel remarked.

" Forgive me, my king. But I can't help feeling as if we are not alone."

At this Raheel took a few moments to look about himself. " The gardens are normally void of any visitors this late in the night. Still, I suppose it is possible that we could be discovered."

Just then the form of a man stepped out of the nearby shadows to join them.

" Ah! You were the eyes I felt upon us." The captain greeted with relief.

" You were expecting another, perhaps?" Their third companion smirked.

Raheel interrupted. " What is the word?"

The spy bowed his head in homage. " The word, my Lord, is that your cousins will arrive two days from this night. All is moving according to the plan and I have yet to be suspected of anything more than a simple stable boy."

" That is good news." Raheel replied softly.

" At least for now we have hope." The captain began. " Your men will be ready. All they need is the signal. I will provide it to them when you give me the word."

" It is set then." Raheel replied, more to himself than to his fellow conspirators. " Let us hope that Gaumata does not suspect anything until the right time. Let us hope that we do not have to wage war within the walls of this palace. Gaumata has caused enough tragedy and bloodshed."

* * *

Atossa backed away from the balcony and quietly returned to the library doors. With no light but that from the moon through the curtains she was slow and deliberate with her steps. Far be it for her to bump into a table stacked with books and alert the guards of an intruder.

" _The third night in a row."_ She thought to herself as she carefully checked the corridor just outside the doors. _" They are planning something. I know it…. But what?_" Quickly she slipped out into the hall and shut the library doors behind her, careful not to allow the latch to fall on its own. She made quick work of locking the doors and hurried down the hall towards her rooms, pocketing the key away for later use.

She had seen enough. It was certain to her that Raheel was in the capitol for personal reasons. _" But what is it he is planning_?" She wondered to herself. " _I must know… I will know_."

* * *

Silence filled the room except for the strained breathing of Maharajah Bindusara. He looked at Farah who held his hand tenderly. She sensed that his time was ending. Akbar quietly approached her.

" Farah?" He whispered. " You must rest. You have been at his side all night."

Farah looked up at him and then back at her dying uncle. She shook her head resolutely. " I can't. I can't leave him, Akbar."

" Then at least eat something… you must care for yourself too."

Akbar command was gentle but firm and Farah knew he was correct. But her grief took away all appetite. She could not find it in herself to leave Bindusara's side, even for her own needs.

And so Akbar finally relented and took a seat beside his father across the bed from Farah vigil guard. The hours became long as the night lengthened into its fullness. The moonlight cast its long rays through the windows in stark contrast to the warm glow of candlelight.

And while Bindusara slept Farah looked up at her cousin, a question on her lips. " What about Ashoka? Is he not coming?"

Her question was just above a whisper and Bindusara stirred, restless and uncomfortable. Akbar took hold of his father's hand and held it firmly within his own. Farah watched in silence, weary with distress over the suffering she beheld.

After a moment Bindusara calmed and Akbar looked up at Farah's solemn face. " Ashoka is very busy… I do not know if he is yet aware of father's failing health."

Farah frowned, suddenly angered. " What do you mean he is busy? Certainly he cannot be so busy that he would not be with his father during his final hours!"

Akbar shook his head wearily. " I… I cannot speak for Ashoka, dear cousin."

Farah opened her mouth to reply when Bindusara suddenly gasped and opened his eyes. " Ashoka? Ashoka is that you, my son?" And Bindusara's gaze fell upon Akbar.

Farah looked at Akbar with concern and he, in turn, looked down upon his father with sadness. " No father… it is I… Akbar."

" Ashoka? Is that you?" Bindusara reached for his hand. " I have so wished to see your face before I die."

Akbar stiffened as his father touched his face tenderly.

" My first born son… may your life… be one of great blessing. Be… good to your people…"

Farah watched, struck dumb by grief, as Bindusara took his final breath and died. Akbar held him in his arms, tears silently falling down his cheeks. And when he finally had enough presence of mind to look at Farah she was no longer there.

* * *

Once again she questioned her decision to return to India. For nothing was as it had been. _" Maybe I made the wrong choice." _Farah thought forlornly_._ _" I wish Raheel were here_…"

The one thing that had not been taken by the vizier was taken by fate. And she wandered down the halls, half blinded by tears until she felt a pair of hands grab hold of her shoulders.

" Farah?"

She looked up in surprise to see Manessa gazing down upon her with concern.

" Oh, Manessa!" She cried and fell upon his chest, completely undone. Quietly he wrapped his arms around her and she was briefly reminded of her how her father once comforted her.

" Has it… happened?" Manessa asked softly. " Has the Maharajah…"

Farah nodded mutely and pulled back enough so that she might look up at him again.

" He asked for Ashoka." Farah began, her voice just above a whisper. " But he never arrived… did he not know what has happened? Does he not_ care_? Is there a reason for why he never arrived?"

Manessa looked at her apologetically. " Ashoka could not be present because he is yet three weeks away. The Maharajah had asked Ashoka to conduct one final census of the kingdom before his passing. It is that task Ashoka strives to accomplish at this very hour."

" So far away..." Farah's heart ached then for him. At last the absence of the eldest son was made clear. He was out doing the work his father had asked him to do and Farah felt remorse for her earlier judgments of him. She too knew the pain of being unable to comfort a loved one during death.

Perhaps she had been wrong about him. Perhaps circumstances were making things impossible… for everyone.

* * *


End file.
